


The Fugitive

by ja54591



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen, Injury, Pre-Season/Series 01, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-03 19:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ja54591/pseuds/ja54591
Summary: Hunted, wounded, and abandoned by her family, Sabine is forced into an uneasy partnership with a team of mysterious rogues in order to escape the clutches of the Empire. When the group uncovers a plot that threatens to unleash calamity on the galaxy, Sabine must choose between running to save herself or fighting for the good of others.





	1. The Stowaway

“Remember, if you see something, say something. Your empire is counting on you.”

The droning voice of the public address system rang in Sabine’s ears, prompting her to pull the grimy hood further over her head as she tried to shrink further into the line for the ticket vendor. Though barely audible over the voices of hundreds of travelers, the looped message was the only sound she could clearly hear, accompanied by the feeling of a thousand sets of eyes focused directly on her. Squeezing the small duffel she carried to her chest, she could feel the rigid outline of the armor plates carefully stacked inside. Normally, the armor would be locked in a snug embrace around her body. Now, the grey pieces were nothing more than a beacon for Imperial authorities, a heavy reminder of her past reality that was rapidly slipping away.

Even on Ord Mantell, a planet known for its vast criminal networks and illicit underworld, the Empire’s watchful eye remained a persistent threat. Desertion was a high crime in the Imperial system, even for a fourteen-year-old, and the Empire had already proven its willingness to use its extensive resources to get her back. Every patrol she dodged and every checkpoint she skirted seemed to tighten the noose around her neck, making it only a matter of time before the dragnet completely closed and snuffed out her nascent freedom. Her last encounter with the Empire had left the grievous wound that hobbled her now, and had torn away the last semblance of trust and support she had. With no one left to turn to, getting off-world became a necessary risk – less a chance of starting over, more a chance of survival.

Despite the diverse assortment of species that milled along the scuffed halls of the concourse, she still felt a spotlight being cast around her. Sabine’s attempts at altering her appearance seemed to cry out on their own for more attention; the dye she had hastily applied had failed to set correctly, creating reddish blotches throughout her brunette hair instead of the intended auburn tone. Her lopsided smock, pulled from a back-alley trash compactor, couldn’t stop the feeling that countless gazes were penetrating straight through to her core, highlighting her like a fire in a thermal scope. The only comfort she felt came from the synthleather belt clasped tight around her waist, securing the two Westar blasters firmly to her sides.

“Ma’am?” a disinterested, electronic tone called. Sabine snapped to attention, finding herself standing directly in front of the robotic teller. “Your destination,” the droid repeated. Sabine hesitated, her eyes glancing to the departures board, searching for the earliest outbound flight.

“Dantooine,” she muttered, pushing a crumpled wad of credits into the small opening in the window of the booth. A sudden pang of fear shot through her; she hadn’t even checked the price of the ticket. The meager pile of credits, acquired from an unobservant customer that had been in the same aisle as the hair dye, was all Sabine had left. The droid silently took the currency, first eyeing it, then her. After several seconds, the whining sound of a printer generating her boarding pass allowed her to release the breath she had unconsciously been holding.

“Gate one-nine-one. Have a pleasant trip.” Grabbing the ticket, Sabine turned and joined the throng of people moving towards the boarding area. Deep in the industrial district of Ord Mantell’s capitol, Libertine Interplanetary Spaceport largely catered to spacers, freighters, and those without the means to fly into one of the ports closer to the entertainment or governmental districts. The poured-duracrete walls housed few amenities or decorations, save for a handful of electronic displays announcing the most recent departures and arrivals. Cowing her head to shield her face from the florescent lights above, she pushed deeper into the crowd, praying that any cameras surveilling the terminal were too old to have been integrated with Imperial facial recognition software. A flash of white plastoid in her periphery sent another chill through her body as she spied a pair of Stormtroopers idly watching the flood of passengers move through the hall.

Trying to put as many bodies between herself and the patrol, she didn’t see a particularly hurried Rodian moving through the crowd in the opposite direction. The two collided, the Rodian’s arm knocking hard against her torso. Stuttering a quick apology, the Rodian continued on his way past her. Fighting to remain upright, Sabine bit the inside of her lips to suppress the cry of pain that was actively fighting to escape her throat. Staggering on down the hallway, she slipped a hand under the poncho to press against the throbbing gash in her side, willing the pain from the unexpected impact to end. She could feel the soiled bandage beneath her jumpsuit slipping out of position yet again, the dirty cloth stretched beyond its ability to hold in place for much longer. Shifting the duffel into her other hand, she pressed her elbow tighter into her side to hold the wad of gauze, eyes darting around the terminal for a secluded place to readjust the dressing. Ahead, the flow of passengers slowed to a standstill, something obstructing their movement to the gates beyond.

“Attention, passengers in the concourse,” a new voice boomed across the address system, forcing Sabine’s heart to skip a beat. “Due to heightened security concerns, additional identification checks will be occurring at all outbound gates. Please have identification and boarding passes ready for inspection.” Sabine stopped dead in her tracks, her stomach in free-fall. True to the announcer’s word, a team of Stormtroopers stood between her and the gate, collecting identification cards and comparing them against the datapads they held. An olive-suited officer stood nearby, his eyes drifting from the troopers over into the crowd. Slowly turning around, Sabine began pushing her way back towards the ticketing booths.

“You there!” a voice called over the crowd. Sabine pressed on, quickening her pace.

“You in the black! Stop!” Chancing a glance over her shoulder, she saw the officer with his arm outstretched, pointed in her direction. Their eyes met, and he began pushing his way through the crowd towards her. Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she spun around to see the pair of troopers now pushing through the crowd towards her as well. Grip tightening on the straps of the duffel bag, she felt a rough hand grasp her shoulder.

“I ordered you to hal-“ As the officer pulled her shoulder, Sabine swung her body as hard as she could, bringing the weighted duffel into a low arc that slammed into the officer’s groin. The Imperial cried out in agony, doubling over and collapsing to his knees. Hearing rapid, booted footsteps approaching, she drew one of her blasters and pivoted towards the approaching Stormtroopers. Not expecting a weapon, the trooper fumbled the release of his holster, struggling to draw his own blaster. Taking a step towards the trooper, Sabine jammed the barrel of the pistol under the soldier’s breastplate, squeezing the trigger. The muffled bark of the blaster echoed against the duracrete walls as the trooper collapsed towards his partner. Leveling the blaster at the second trooper’s neck, she didn’t hear her second shot over the shrill shriek of a nearby passenger. As the second soldier began to pitch backward, she turned back towards the fallen officer.

Still on his knees, the officer had only just begun to push himself up from retching on the floor, one hand reaching for the sidearm on his belt. The sights of her blaster aligning between the man’s eyes, Sabine met the officer’s gaze again. The exclamations of frightened commuters quieted as time began to dilate, the abject terror in the man’s eyes dominating her vision. She tried to turn her eyes away, but her body felt locked in place, her sight remaining fixed on the fallen officer. Clenching her jaw, she forced her mind to focus on the olive uniform. Hatred began to burn through her veins.

Her blaster echoed once more. The Imperial slumped to the ground.

Shouting. Running. A riot of motion erupted in a blur around her as she turned away, her legs beginning to propel her in a sprint along with the rest of the crowd. Another voice was blaring over the address system in a futile attempt to restore order while yellow emergency lights flashed like lightning along the grey walls. Spying a door along the far wall marked _EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY_ , Sabine pushed her way through the stampede and charged shoulder first through the barred door. The door flung open easily, and she rushed into the tiny stairwell, her footsteps clattering down the metal staircase. As she burst through the doorway at the bottom, the deafening roar of engines momentarily fazed her as she found herself standing on the edge of the flight line. A cargo droid trundled along pulling a series of baggage sleds a few meters away, obliviously continuing on as Sabine clambered aboard one of them and pulled the retaining flap closed behind her.

Heaving for breath in the darkness, Sabine let out a frustrated growl as she slammed her fist against a nearby piece of luggage. The initial spike of adrenaline was beginning to wear off, causing the nuisance throbbing of the wound in her side to intensify into burning, radiating pain. Fumbling to reposition the failed dressing, she peaked through a gap in the curtain. Across the flight line, military transports raced towards the main terminal, dozens of white-clad troopers trying to contain the hundreds of civilians that were now pouring out of every door of the building. The terminal disappeared from view as the sled banked to the right, passing fuel tanks and parked shuttles on its way towards the cargo terminals. Through the small slit, she watched a freighter gently rise from behind the walls of one of the circular bays, its engines erupting into vibrant blue flames as they pushed the craft towards the sky. Fortunately for her, profitability trumped security in the Imperial system; despite the chaos gripping the passenger terminal, the industrial side of the spaceport remained open for business.

As the hoversled neared a small alcove along the wall of the complex, Sabine carefully dropped from the slow-moving trailer, rolling to a stop with a grunt of exertion. Slinking along the shadows to an unguarded maintenance door, she slipped into the cargo concourse. As the door sealed out the furious rumbling of engines, she was struck by the relative tranquility of the terminal. While the wide duracrete passages were similar in design to the passenger concourse, only a handful of pilots and mechanics walked between the various bays. At the far side, a pair of loader droids babbled quietly as they slowly trudged from one hangar to another, massive crates pinned between their yellow, forked arms. Slowly edging out from the doorway, Sabine walked silently down the hallway, avoiding idle glances as she trailed the droids. The droids paused as they arrived at their destination; a set of durasteel doors, _94_ emblazoned on them with block aurebesh lettering, slowly beginning to split apart with a baritone groan.

 _Maybe, if I can get onto a freighter unnoticed…_ The nascent plan was suddenly cut short by a mechanical whirring above her head. Looking up, Sabine found herself staring into the buffed-glass lens of a security camera, pointed directly at her.

_Fierfek._

At once the warning klaxons throughout the hall began to wail anew, the ear-splitting tone sending the other pilots scrambling for the shelter of their hangers. When the loader droids paused their movement to investigate the source of the commotion, Sabine bolted for the still-opening bay doors, eliciting a string of binary curses as she darted between the legs of one of the behemoths. Inside the hanger, stacks of crates rested around a small Corellian freighter, its loading ramp still extended as it awaited the arrival of the rest of its cargo. Not pausing to look if anyone was still in the hanger, she dashed up the ramp. The cramped cargo bay, half-loaded with an assortment of unmarked crates, bore the same faded green and yellow paint of the hull, but no other distinguishing features save for the ladder that led deeper into the ship. More importantly, one of the crates had been left opened and empty towards the rear of the bay. Throwing the duffel inside before clambering in herself, she pulled the door secure behind her.

Fighting to stifle her ragged breathing, Sabine sat in the darkness, both blasters now drawn and clenched in trembling hands. In the distance, the rhythmic pulse of the alarm continued, now accompanied by the pitchy shriek of sirens approaching. A deep, metallic _thunk_ echoed as the hanger doors locked into their open position, followed by the unmistakable clatter of plastoid armor and dozens of footsteps.

“Cameras spotted her just outside the bay,” the monotone voice of a Stormtrooper began. “First team, start checking the crates outside. Everyone else, on me. Sweep the ship.” Hearing footsteps vibrating on the loading ramp, Sabine pressed herself against the back of the crate, holding her breath as her hands clenched harder around the grips of the blasters.

“ _Excuse me_ , what do you think you’re doing?” A defiant, feminine voice cut through the walls of the crate, almost drawing a gasp from Sabine with its bluntness.

“Conducting a search of the area, miss-”

“That’s _captain_ to you.” Sabine lowered her weapons a fraction, mildly impressed and wholly shocked by the attitude of the unseen individual. The trooper stammered, equally taken aback by the response.

“Well, captain, we have reason to believe an armed fugitive boarded your ship-”

“So, that gives you license to come aboard as well? Where’s your warrant?” The _click-whirr_ of a blaster arming signaled a negative shift in the conversation.

“I have extenuating circumstances, _captain_ ” the trooper retorted, clearly done with the pilot’s obstruction. “Now, step aside, or I’ll be forced to detai-“ The sound of another person sliding down the ladder cut off the trooper again and another voice, this time male, joined the argument.

“Is there a problem here?”

“No problem, love. Just more Imperials conducting warrantless searches,” the feminine voice replied dryly.

“ _Enough!_ ” the trooper barked. “You two will comply with my lawful orders, or we will use force!”

“Easy. No need for this to get out of hand. Besides,” the second man paused, his tone shifting from placating to almost leading. “You need to check Bay 96 first.” A pregnant pause filled the cargo bay.

“We need to check Bay 96 first.” Incredulous, Sabine heard the footsteps resume, this time down the ramp and away from the ship. A few muffled orders were barked, then the footsteps gradually departed, the braying of the alarms once again dominating the area. She shook her head; while corruption had always been a fixture of the Imperial system, Stormtroopers accepting bribes was a new low for their oft-touted “discipline.”

“Well, that was close,” the female voice muttered. “They said they were searching for some…” The words trailed off, empty silence sending a tremor down Sabine’s spine. Peering at the small slit of light leaching through the base of the crate’s door, she could see the shadows of motion approaching outside. A metallic floor panel nearby groaned as the weight of muted footsteps compressed it. Whoever they were, they clearly knew she was there. Raising her blasters, Sabine coiled herself like a spring within the confines of the box, and took a slow breath in. Holding the breath for a moment longer, she launched herself through the side of the crate with the fiercest shout she could muster.

Immediately the blasters were torn from her grasp, seemingly ripped away by some unseen hand. An arm slammed into her collarbones, breaking her momentum and sending her tumbling backwards as it began to curl in a lock around her neck. Primal panic began to flood her senses as she felt herself begin pulled into a powerful embrace, her attempts to pull and claw at the limb unable to break its hold. As she threw a pointed elbow behind her, the attackers other arm wrapped around her midsection, pinning her arms to her sides and slamming hard into the wound on her abdomen. An undignified howl burst from her throat as daggers of pain tore through her core. The cargo bay spun as the arms pulled her backwards, dragging her towards the floor.

“ _Careful!_ Don’t hurt her!” the feminine voice exclaimed.

The arm at her midsection slackened, giving her enough room to slip an arm away and claw at the hold on her neck. The two rolled to their sides, the legs of an orange flightsuit filling her vision. Sabine fought to turn her neck, to see a youthful Twi’lek woman staring down at her, a small holdout blaster held passively at her side. To Sabine’s surprise, concern was obviously written across her face, the green skin of her brow knitted together. The man’s arms twisted under her armpits and slid behind her head, relieving the pressure on her side but rendering her arms useless. She bucked helplessly against the hold, completely trapped by the man’s steely grip.

“Take it easy! _Easy_!” the man grunted, rolling them both upright while trying to secure her flailing legs with his own. Utterly exhausted, Sabine half-heartedly squirmed in the grip, finding no room to maneuver.

“Let… me… go…” she rasped out, hoping that her rage carried in her voice rather than the unadulterated fear that now grasped her. The Twi’lek stooped down in front of her, returning the blaster to its holster and resting her forearms on her knees.

“We will, but you have to quit fighting us,” she soothed, looking over Sabine with gentle eyes. “We’re not going to hurt you.” Sapped of all strength, Sabine slowly relaxed, letting her arms hang awkwardly in the man’s grip. She waited for the hands on the back of her head to snap her neck downward, but instead felt the pressure gradually lift, slowly uncoiling from around her body. Staring at the woman, Sabine found herself sitting in the lap of the unknown man, panting for breath as the thumping of her heartbeat returned to her ears.

“That’s it,” the woman intoned. “You’re going to be okay.” The man’s arms continued to retreat from under her own arms, gently shifting her onto the floor beside him. Cautiously, she turned towards her attacker, to find a man not much older than the Twi’lek staring back at her. Hardly even breathing heavily, the only sign of their struggle was a few strands of hair pulled loose from his otherwise-neat ponytail, trailing down across his face to interrupt the radiant teal of his eyes. His gaze seemed to penetrate through her, and she shifted her eyes uncomfortably towards the floor.

“What’s your name?” the woman inquired, head tilting to intercept Sabine’s falling look. With a hardened face, Sabine gave a halfhearted shrug.

“Names don’t matter.” The woman pursed her lips as if she was going to protest, when the man suddenly rushed to his feet, the sudden movement making Sabine jump. He leaned out from a stack of crates, then ducked down as a crimson bolt sailed over his head and exploded in a shower of sparks against the far wall.

“Our friends are back!” he yelled, drawing a slender blaster from his thigh and returning fire as more bolts tore through the air above them. The woman sprang from her crouch to a panel on the wall behind Sabine, furiously keying commands into the display. Pulling herself to cover behind the crate, Sabine felt the deck shudder with the groan of the engines powering back to life. The loading ramp began to raise, slowly shrouding a dozen troopers in the hangar outside from view. As the door thudded to a close, the woman turned and shot up the ladder with practiced ease. The man followed suit, pausing to retrieve Sabine’s blasters from the ground and tuck them into his belt.

“Stay here, and hang on!” he shouted as he bolted up the ladder and through the door. Pushing herself to her feet, Sabine steadied herself against a stack of containers, only to be thrown back to the floor as the ship lurched violently, sending stacks of crates sliding across the floor. Pulling herself to the ladder, she clung to the metal rails as the ship banked upward, toppling the unsecured cargo. As the ship’s gravity began to normalize, Sabine clambered up the worn rungs and through the unlocked door above. Following the hallway, she wandered into what appeared to be a crew lounge, a dejarik table and benches tucked into the corner and flanked by hallways. The ship shuddered again with the sound of impacts, followed by the unmistakable screech of ion engines passing nearby.

Before she could head towards the cockpit, one of the adjacent doorways burst open as a squat astromech tore into the room. Manipulator arms flailing angrily over its orange, angular head, the droid spotted Sabine and attempted to confront her, only to have its own inertia and another jolt of the ship send it spinning into the wall. Angrily shaking off the blow, the droid approached her with a series of bellicose tones, gesturing manically back down the hall the way she came.

“Like hell I’m going back to the bay! I’ve almost been crushed twice!” Sabine shouted over the thudding of another blow to the ship. The droid warbled furiously, extending a shock prod from its body that crackled to life with blue electricity. As her eyes darted around the room for a place to hide, a powerful blow sent the two sprawling backwards as the lights flickered under the strain.

“Chop! We’re about to lose the shields!” the woman’s voice crackled over the room’s intercom. “Reroute the auxiliary power or we’re done!” Seeing the droid kicking impotently on its back, Sabine pushed herself back to her feet and pulled with all her strength to get the droid back upright. Shaking its head and beeping in frustration, the orange droid turned and began to return down the hall it had come from.

“Wait!” Sabine called, as the droid halted at the doorway. “This is a VCX-series freighter, it’s got a dorsal turret. Where is it?” Placing its manipulators defiantly on its sides, the droid gave a dismissive warble. “Look, if we’re going to make it out of this, you guys are going to need all the help you can get. Where is it?” The droid looked to her, then to the closed door leading to the cockpit, then back again. With a mechanical sigh, the astromech pointed towards a ladder at the far end of the room and disappeared through the door to the back of the ship.

Arriving at the top of the ladder, Sabine looked out of the transparisteel dome to see the black void of space, the blotting of stars streaking and shifting as the ship dodged brilliant green bolts of energy and a small swarm of TIE Fighters. Clambering into the unoccupied gunner’s seat, she fought down a sudden wave of vertigo; though she had spent plenty of time in the gunnery simulators, the computers never truly replicated the disorienting disconnect between the ship’s artificial gravity and the visual stimulus outside. Breathing deep to calm her stomach, she powered up the targeting computer and slipped a nearby headset over her ear.

“You know, if you could actually hit _something_ , they might back off of us for a second!” the woman’s voice barked through the earpiece.

“Easier said than done!” the man’s frustrated voice retorted. Pivoting the turret over the rear of the ship, Sabine watched two fighters approach in a tight pair. Making a snap estimate of their path, she input the distance to the targets and squeezed the triggers. Having taken the previous lack of fire from the turret for granted, the pilots were unable to react in time, their crafts colliding with the red lances of plasma and exploding brilliantly behind the engines. The other pilots veered wide of the craft, determined not to make their comrades’ mistake.

“Wait, who’s shooting behind us? Chop, I need you on the shields, not the gun!” the woman shouted, confusion dulling the anger in her voice. A series of warbles flooded the intercom. “The girl? What is-“

“Two more, at your one-oh-four,” Sabine cut in, guiding the turret over the right side of the ship. “They’re going to fly high-to-low, and make a pass on the underside.” True to her word, the two fighters darted towards the underside of the ship, seeking cover in the blind spot of the weapons.

“Get ready, I’m going to line you up!” the woman called, the tension in her voice now lost to complete focus. The stars in the transparisteel above her pitched wildly, framing the two TIEs in her sights. Sabine pulled the triggers and watched the fighters vaporize into a yellow bloom.

“Got ‘em!” she nearly shouted, a sudden rush of exhilaration washing over her.

“Two more approaching from the rear,” the woman called, as a cascade of green lasers showered the hull around Sabine’s turret. The lighting once again failed, returning with the red flash of warning lights.

“I’ve lost my rangefinder!” the man shouted. Sabine watched the fighters circle around, before beginning another approach from the left side of the ship.

“Manually set your range to two-thousand. I’m going to push them into you,” Sabine called, rotating the turret to face the approaching fighters.

“Got it,” the man’s voice replied. Aiming just above the pair of targets, she sent a barrage of laser fire toward the approaching craft. Seeing the incoming fire, the pilots dodged sharply towards the front of the ship.

“ _Now!”_ As she rotated back towards the front, she saw a spray of red rip through the wings of both craft, unable to react to the second lethal stream. Spinning wildly into the void, the ships collided in another flash of amber light. The remaining fighters pulled further away, trying to regroup from their losses.

“Got an opening!” the woman shouted. The stars and fighters around the dome elongated and fused into brilliant blue light as the ship leapt into the silent maw of hyperspace. Sabine leaned back into the seat, exhaling deeply and wiping anxious perspiration from her forehead. Staring into the whirling lights outside, she felt a tinge of relief and exhaustion. For the moment, she was out of the Empire’s reach.

The sound of voices at the base of the ladder broke her moment’s reprieve.

 _Well, on to the next problem…_ she thought dryly as she slowly set the headset aside and moved towards the exit. Sliding down the railing back into the room below, she turned to find the man and woman standing at the base of the ladder, arms crossed. A wry grin turned at the corner of the man’s lips, while the woman smiled more fully.

“Nicely done up there. I was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with the guns, but it looks like it’s just _operator_ error,” the Twi’lek said, giving the man a gentle jab in the ribs.

“I still think it’s the computer,” the man defended, as the Twi’lek rolled her eyes.

“Thanks,” Sabine mumbled, folding her arms around her chest. The man’s piercing eyes once again met with hers, forcing her to drop her gaze while keeping the two’s hands in her field of view. The woman took a cautious step forward, placing a shoulder between the man and Sabine.

“My name’s Hera. This is my co-pilot Kanan, and the droid you met earlier is Chopper.” The woman leaned slightly, once again catching Sabine’s gaze with her gentle emerald eyes. “What can we call you?” Sabine dropped her eyes to the floor, pulling her arms even closer to her.

“What are you going to do with me?” She looked up again to the woman, whose eyes now bore a hint of sorrow as she straightened back to her full height, one hand gently resting on her hip.

“Well, our hasty departure makes returning to Ord Mantell a bit impractical,” Hera began, the wry smile once again pulling at the corner of her mouth. “As it was, we were supposed to link up with… an associate within the next two rotations. Until we complete that meet, you’ll have to stay with us.” Hera exchanged a quick glance with Kanan, then turned back to Sabine. “Once that’s done, we can take you where you need to go.” Sabine slowly looked to Hera, then to Kanan, then slowly nodded in agreement. Looking her over, Hera turned to a closet tucked into the corner of the room. Retrieving a small medkit, she extended it to Sabine, nodding towards the door behind them. “The trip will take us nearly a rotation and a half. There’s a refresher down the hall, help yourself to the hot water and anything else you need.” Warily accepting the plastoid container, Sabine turned it over in her hands, her eyes once again returning to Kanan’s belt.

“Can I have my blasters back?” she muttered, disgusted at how the words sounded coming from her mouth; if her family knew how quickly she’d lost control of her weapons, they’d have disowned her again. Hera and Kanan exchanged a longer look, then to Sabine’s amazement, Kanan pulled the blasters from the small of his back, offering the grips of the pistols to her. As she reached out to pull them away, Kanan’s grasp remained firm on the barrels, his eyes locking with hers before slowly releasing his hold. Slowly returning the pistols to their holster, she backed away towards the hallway, watching Kanan and Hera until the door slid shut between them.

The refresher wasn’t much larger than a standard closet, the gunmetal basin and toilet no more than a few decimeters from the opposing side. Despite this, Sabine was pleasantly surprised to find a small shower tucked into the opposite wall, a fresh towel clamped to a retaining pin on the back wall. Setting the medkit on the basin, she gingerly eased herself out of the bodysuit, slowly unwinding the filthy gauze from her midsection and gritting her teeth as the soiled patch peeled away from the raw flesh underneath. Exposed under the sterile white of the room’s fluorescent lighting, the angry crimson swatch across her side was coated in dirt and grime, but had not begun to bear the red tendrils of infection. In the center, the wadding of gauze that filled the deepest part of the perforation had turned to a dull iron color, the clotting agent long since activated. Even so, she dared not pull it out on her own, instead grabbing another pad from the medkit and pressing it gently over the wound.

Pulling a blaster from the holster, she slowly edged into the shower stall, angling her body to keep the jet of water from spraying the open wound. She ignored the gash’s biting sting as water began to seep through the gauze, instead savoring the sensation of the warm water starting to lift tension as it cascaded down her shoulders and back. It had been days since she had been afforded such a luxury, as evidenced by the murky pool of brown and red that swirled around the drain between her feet. Setting the blaster on a small ledge on the wall, Sabine pointed her face into the stream, slowly letting the sound of the running water flood out the torrent of thoughts running through her mind.

A tapping at the door broke her from the trance, sending her fumbling for the blaster. Cursing herself for being so careless as to let her guard down around people she hardly knew, she pointed the blaster at the door, hardly able to control the intense sway of the muzzle induced by the tremor that was now enveloping her entire body. As her mind poured over endless horrible possibilities, her eyes remained fixed to the still-closed door.

“I found your bag,” Hera’s voice called through the door. “And I also found you something clean to wear, even though it might be a little big.” The blaster in her hand drooped a fraction as Sabine continued to stare at the closed door. “I’ll leave it here, take your time.” A quiet patter of footsteps slowly faded away from the other side of the door, leaving Sabine’s ears once again filled with the sound of running water. Slumping against the wall of the shower, she heaved for air as her knees threatened to buckle under the shaking of her legs. When her constitution finally returned, she quickly scrubbed the remaining dirt from her body and wrapped the towel around herself. Peeking out of the doorway, she found her duffel sitting on the floor, a beige shirt and grey shorts neatly folded on top of it. Pulling the bag inside, she found the contents as she had left them, the grey plates stacked neatly next to the helmet. The half-used packet of hair dye, which miraculously hadn’t spilled throughout the day’s events, sat nestled beside the helmet. Sabine looked into the mirror at the reddish-brown blotches that stained her hair. With a sigh, she turned on the water in the basin and grabbed the packet.

* * *

As she tentatively entered the common room, the musk of warm food immediately struck Sabine’s senses. Seated at the dejarik table, Hera greeted her with a warm smile. She did her best to force a smile back, shifting nervously in the baggy shirt that hung over her diminutive frame.

“So, there was a person under all that dirt,” Hera teased, earning a blush from the girl. She patted the seat next to her, shifting to make room at the table. “Would you like something to eat? We mostly just have rehydrated rations, but I was able to find some fresh fruit.” Sabine nodded cautiously, sliding into the seat next to the pilot. The rational part of her brain told her to begin with the nutritionally-balanced ration, but she found herself gorging on some unknown fruit, hands sticky with its pinkish juice. Hera took another spoonful from her own ration packet, studying Sabine as she ate. Her bangs, still wet but already showing a deep scarlet from the fresh dye, weren’t long enough to conceal the way her eyes continually darted to each of the doors. “Take all you want,” Hera cajoled, making a short gesture to the duffel that the girl kept within arm’s reach of her. “If you want, I can wash your suit while you eat.” Sabine paused mid-bite, eyeing Hera cautiously. After a second of reflection, she wiped some of the juice from her hands and unzipped the duffel bag, pulling out the flight suit. As she reached to hand the suit away, the self-tied wrapping of her bandage slipped, eliciting a wince of pain. Hera looked at the stained flight suit, then to Sabine, whose head hung in a mixture of embarrassment and anguish. “Can I take a look at it?” Hera coaxed. Sabine looked up, fear and resignation etched in her expression.

“Your co-pilot… He doesn’t come in.” Hera nodded, sliding out from the table and kneeling in front of the girl.

“He’s in the cockpit, on first watch.” Sabine slowly nodded, hitching the shirt up to the base of her sternum as Hera retrieved a set of gloves from the medkit. Unwinding the slackened wrapping from around the girl’s waist, Hera bit her lip as she slowly removed the gauze pad covering the gash. “What did this?” she asked, blotting away some of the weeping fluid from the edges.

“Blaster,” Sabine grunted. Hera nodded in acknowledgement as she cautiously swabbed the shallower portion of the wound. Hera worked in silence, only punctuated by Sabine’s occasional hiss of pain or the groan of the hyperdrive shifting power. Reaching the discolored knot of wadding, Hera shifted through the medkit, picking up a fresh patch.

“On the targeting computer, were there really any problems?” Hera inquired. Sabine looked to her, puzzled.

“Well… other than the rangefinder being out, there was a bit of a lag in the controls… It’s probably something to do with the target solution not populating correctly into the-“ Sabine’s words were cut short by a cry of agony as Hera quickly pulled the wad free, spraying bacta into the gap and repackaging it with sterile gauze. Sabine doubled over into Hera’s shoulder, choking for breath between the throbs of pain.

“I’m sorry,” Hera said, pressing a clean bacta pad over the wound while gently rubbing circles along the girl’s heaving back. “I’m so sorry.” Sabine fought to regain her composure, straightening up from Hera’s shoulder and mustering the strength to raise her arms so that she could begin wrapping the bandage around her waist. The fabric glided through Hera’s hands with a practiced ease, holding the bacta pad snugly to her body. Sabine looked the woman over as she worked, mind still cloudy from the sudden impulse of pain but now keenly intrigued by Hera’s gentle proficiency.

“How… where did you learn to do this?” Sabine mumbled. Crossing another lap of fabric around her waist, Hera gave Sabine a wistful smile.

“My home was one of the hardest regions hit during the Clone War,” she explained.

“Ryloth?” Sabine interjected, eyeing the unique design of Hera’s sidearm. Hera’s smile widened as she nodded.

“Everyone did what they could to help. Those too young or too old to fight helped take care of those who could – cooking, cleaning, tending to the wounded. Whatever we were able to do.” Fastening the end of the bandage with a set of clips, Hera helped ease Sabine’s shirt back down and retrieved a small container of medications from the kit. “The war ended, but then the Empire rose up. And when I left Ryloth, I found that there were many, many people that needed my help just as badly. So I never really had a chance to forget the skills I learned.”

“So why did you leave? Why not stay and fight?” Sabine inquired. Hera chuckled, shaking her head gently.

“My father wanted me to…” Hera trailed off as Sabine’s gaze fell at the mention of family. Opening the pillbox, Hera extracted a pair of capsules and placed them into Sabine’s hand, closing her hand around the girl’s. “We don’t always get the choice of whether to fight or not. What we do choose is how. And why.” Sabine stared at Hera for a long moment, until the older woman smiled and retrieved a glass of water from the table, handing it to Sabine. “Those will help with the pain and keep down infection, and the patch should have the worst of it healed over in a little while. For now, though, you need to rest.” Sabine hesitated again, then nodded, slowly rising from the bench and following Hera down the hall. They stopped at one of the crew rooms, empty but for a small bunk and a shelf on the wall. “I’m in the room just down the hall on this side, if you need me.” Nodding, Sabine took a step into the room, before turning back to face Hera.

“Sabine. My name’s Sabine.” Hera’s eyes brightened, the gentle smile lighting up her face once more.

“Glad to meet you, Sabine. Rest well,” Hera said, as she turned and departed down the hall. Sabine keyed the door closed behind her, setting her blasters beside the bed and slipping between the sheets. As soon as her body touched the mattress, fatigue washed over her, the stillness of slumber taking hold moments later.

* * *

Hera stepped into the cockpit, sliding into the pilot’s seat next to Kanan. Kanan smiled, extending the mug of caf he held to her, which she gratefully accepted.

“How’s our guest?” Kanan asked, as Hera took a long sip from the cup.

“Resting.” The two lapsed into silence, staring out into the whirl of hyperspace.

“Did you see the armor in the bag she was carrying?” Hera asked. Kanan nodded folding his arms over his chest.

“Mandalorian. Almost certainly a custom set, too. There’s no way she stole it from someone; that was given to her by family.” Hera balanced the mug on her lap, running an inquisitive finger along her temple.

“But then what is she doing out here, alone? Family is everything in their culture.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kanan’s brow furrowed in thought.

“Something else is in play here, something bigger.” Hera turned, staring intently at Kanan as he broke from the reflective pose to meet her gaze. “We need to start finding answers.” Hera nodded, leaning back into the chair.

“Well, we have the answer to our first question,” Hera said. “We have a name.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The revelation of Sabine's backstory was by far my favorite moments of season three, and was the impetus for this story. The cover art is courtesy of the incredible Lledra on Tumblr. Up next, meeting "the associate." As always, comments and critique are greatly appreciated!
> 
> All the best,
> 
> JA


	2. The Associate

A gentle snowfall danced between the towering firs that jutted upwards into the overcast sky, the flakes’ gentle decent muting all sound except the soft crunching of the snowpack under Sabine’s boots. Following the footpath that wound between trees and over the forested hills, she felt a gentle wind combing through her hair like a gentle touch, welcoming her vagabond soul back. Her heartbeat quickened as she neared the final ridgeline, her feet shuffling faster through the snow towards the crest. She could already hear grunts of exertion and shouts of exaltation, the sharp _crack_ of sparring rods colliding, and peals of joyous laughter. The final meters of the hill seemed to extend into kilometers as her shuffle transitioned into a sprint, her face alight with anticipation. They were just over there, almost within sight. _Aliit. Yaim._ Family. Home.

A sound, a cold whisper, pricked at the back of her mind and caused her to come to a stop just before the crest of the ridge. She turned back, trying to discern where the growing noise was coming from. The whisper was now a whistle, growing in pitch and intensity as tops of the trees began to tremble as if from fright. The pit of her stomach dropped as the whistle became a shriek, a gleam of light beginning to pierce through the forest. As she threw herself to the ground, the concussion of superheated air pounded against Sabine’s back as a gleaming bolt ripped limbs from the trees overhead, showering her with snow and debris. She looked on in horror as the bluish flame in its wake disappeared over the ridge, bracing for the wrath of its impact.

Instead of blinding light and deafening sound, only a dull _thump_ echoed from beyond the ridgeline. Pushing herself to her feet, she sprinted forward to the top of the hill and looked over into the basin beyond. Figures in gold and grey armor stood silently faced away from her, all staring at the tall, gunmetal cylinder that now jutted from the snow in their midst. Panic tightened her throat as a young boy with chestnut hair slowly walked towards the giant metal tube, hand outstretched. Sabine scrambled forward, air finally escaping her lungs in a pitiful scream.

_NO!_

As the boy’s hand touched the grey metal, a dense smog erupted from the missile, instantly enveloping the gathering around it, shrouding them from view. Sabine skidded to a halt as the cloud rapidly expanded outward, filling the basin and billowing up the slope towards her. Fear seizing hold of her mind, she turned and ran back over the hill, sprinting desperately down the winding path. Over her shoulder, she could see the dense fog boiling over the crest behind her. It poured down the hill and over the snowy firs, which rapidly decayed and burned away into ash as their mighty limbs came into contact with the mist. A fallen branch snagged her foot, sending her tumbling into a heap in the powdery snow. She tried to rise again, but terror robbed her of all motor skills and control. Her helmet nowhere to be found, she took one last deep breath and held it as the cloud seeped around her feet and washed over her body. As her lungs began to scream for air, she watched as the snow began to darken and melt, covering her body in a viscous red liquid. Lights began to flash in her vision as she reached the limits of her stamina, and with tears streaming down her face she let her lips part for her final breath.

Sabine’s eyes snapped open as she gasped for air, the grey durasteel ceiling of bunk slowly returning to focus in her vision. Her eyes flitted to the bedside, where her blasters lay as she had left them the night before. The dull hum of the engines reverberated through the otherwise quiet room, gently soothing the throbbing heart rate from her hearing. She slowly sat upright, grimacing as her side protested mildly against the movement. The throbbing, shooting pain from the wound was absent, only a dull ache remaining to remind her of the injury. Stepping out onto the frigid metal floor, she moved with near-silent footsteps to the door, peering into the hallway outside. At the foot of the doorway sat her bodysuit, folded in a small stack. Turning the suit over in her hands, she found that the brownish-red bloodstains had vanished from the cloth. The perforation in the right side was gone, a small crescent-shaped line of stitching nearly invisible against the black fabric. Gathering up her belt and blasters, she quietly slipped out of the room and into the refresher.

* * *

“Look who’s finally up and about.”

Hera was once again waiting for Sabine as she entered the common room, greeting her with another gentle smile and a ceramic mug of steaming liquid. Accepting the mug with a grateful smile, Sabine slipped into the bench beside Hera, cautiously sipping from the beverage and savoring its bitter flavor.

“How long was I out?” Sabine asked between pulls from the cup. Hera grinned, pouring a dark, grainy cereal from a container on the table into a bowl in front of Sabine.

“About thirteen standard hours. Some of that is due to the painkillers I gave you, but you must have been exhausted regardless.” Sabine nodded, slightly incredulous that she’d been able to sleep that long amongst complete strangers. She mulled the events of the past day between spoonfuls of the cereal, before turning to the other woman.

“Thank… thank you. For all of this,” Sabine said, gesturing towards the bodysuit and the bowl of cereal on the table. “I don’t have any credits, but if there’s anything I can do…” Hera smiled, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not. I’m just glad we found you when we did.” Setting her caf aside, Hera glanced at the chronometer on her wrist. “We should be meeting our associate in a few hours. Once that’s done, we can take you wherever you need to go. Is there anyone we can take you to see?” Hera watched Sabine’s countenance fall as she began half-heartedly pushing the remaining cereal around the bowl with her spoon. Before Hera could inquire further, the door leading to the cockpit slid open as Kanan strode into the room.

“We might have a problem,” Kanan announced, glancing towards Sabine before pulling up a seat by the dejarik table. “He just missed his second check-in in a row.” Hera’s brow furrowed in concern as Kanan flipped several of the table’s switches, a ghostly-blue outline of a cityscape rising from the surface of the table.

“Who is _he_?” Sabine inquired, setting the cereal bowl aside as the shimmering hologram expanded to cover the entire surface of the table. Kanan exchanged a questioning glance with Hera, before enlarging a portion of the hologram.

“Our associate. His last check-in was here, a kilometer from the spaceport and just outside of the local Imperial garrison. He said he was going to continue to recon the place, but nothing since.”

“What about the Imperials?” Hera questioned, concern clearly spreading across her face. “Maybe they found him?” Kanan shook his head, crossing his arms as he reclined in the chair.

“I don’t think so. Imperial comm chatter in the area has been heavy, but nothing about him.” Kanan ran a thoughtful finger along the length of his goatee, before pointing at the glowing red orb that marked the missing associate’s last position. “If we set down in the port, I should be able to get there in a few minutes. A guy his size is bound to have left a trail.” Hera shook her head, leaning away from the holomap with a stern glare.

“You’re not going alone. Something’s stopping him from calling, and if it’s the Empire or someone else, they could be waiting for you too.” Kanan perched his hands on his thighs, a frustrated scowl on his face.

“Well, I don’t think we have much of a choice, unless you’re going to trust Chop to watch the ship _and_ our guest,” Kanan remarked. Hera’s concerned look descended into an irritated glare as she began to open her mouth to reply.

“I’ll go.” Sabine’s interjection cut the dispute short, eliciting a look of surprise from both Hera and Kanan.

“Are you sure you’re up for it? You’re still healing from your last few days, and this might not be any easier,” Hera cautioned.

“I’ll be fine,” Sabine answered with a soft shrug. “Besides, I’m going to earn my keep somehow.” Kanan and Hera exchanged another silent look, before Hera slowly nodded.

“It’s settled then,” Hera affirmed as a chime rang from the intercom. “And just in time. We’re here.” Kanan and Hera rose from the table and walked towards the cockpit, Hera beckoning Sabine to follow them. Sliding into one of the dull brown jump seats behind the pilots’ chairs, Sabine watched as Hera set the ship’s manual controls back into motion. Beyond the transparisteel of the cockpit, the blue-grey spiral of hyperspace began to slow, breaking apart into individual streaks of stars before the baritone _thump_ of the hyperdrive disengaging announced their re-entry into realspace. Sabine felt her body beginning to tense as no planet appeared in front of the ship, but rather a field of massive asteroids.

“I thought you said we were going to find your partner,” Sabine questioned, hands beginning to clutch the sides of the seat.

“We are,” Kanan affirmed as Hera gently guided the ship into the field. Sabine began to open her mouth to reply, but paused as her mouth fell open in shock. A massive asteroid filled the view of the cockpit, thousands of buildings jutting from it like darkened icicles from its base. The towering structures narrowed to a fine point, then expanded again in a rough hourglass shape to connect to another asteroid orbiting slowly nearby. A million points of light from the windows of the city illuminated the surrounding field in an ethereal glow, silhouetting the hundreds of starships that flittered around it like insects circling a floodlight. Hera turned to see the girl’s awestruck expression, an amused smile crossing her own face.

“Welcome to Kafrene,” Hera announced, setting the ship into a gentle glide towards the city’s port. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes. You might want to start gearing up.” Sabine nodded, and made her way to the door leading back towards the common room. Kanan waited until the door closed behind her before turning his seat to face Hera.

“Are you sure this is the right call, bringing her along?” Hera nodded as she gently pulled at the control yoke.

“If she’s anything like what we think she is, she’s not going to continue accepting our help if she thinks it’s a handout. Mandalorians have too much pride for that. Besides, the two of you together will arouse less suspicion than just you moving alone.” Kanan grunted in agreement, sliding his blaster from its holster and checking its power cell. “While you’re gone, Chopper and I will see what we can do to repair the damage from Ord Mantell,” Hera continued as blue outline of the landing bay began to fill their view.  “I’ll also see if I can get us more answers on who Sabine really is.” Guiding the ship into the docking bay, Hera managed their slow descent until the mild shudder of the landing pads making contact with solid ground vibrated through the craft. Kanan rose from his seat, turning towards the door.

“And Kanan,” Hera called as he paused before the door. “Please, take care of her.” With a nod of acknowledgement, he turned and began the short walk to the cargo bay.

* * *

Weaving her way between the countless pedestrians that milled about the narrow street, Sabine relished the feel of her armor once again locked against her body. For one, it lent a sense of security and strength that had been painfully absent over the past days – even her side seemed less bothersome now that the _beskar_ plates were fixed to her figure. Additionally, the helmet allowed her to subtly gawk at the diverse crowd that teemed around her. Even her brief venture into the world of bounty hunting couldn’t shake the utterly alien feel of Kafrene’s labyrinthine streets, whose inhabitants’ clash of garbs, uniforms, and gowns made even her Mandalorian armor seem relatively unremarkable in comparison. Around her, the smell of ammonia venting from leaky pipes mixed with the aroma of cooking food of the street venders and the stench of the unwashed, unshaven miners that pushed past her on their way home. Peels of laughter, shouts of arguments, cries of merchants, and the mumble of conversations blended into an unintelligible cacophony that only amplified the claustrophobic crowding around her. She fought to keep the brown ponytail of her companion in her view as they pressed deeper into the city.

“So, how exactly do you plan to find this “associate” of yours?” Sabine inquired as they pushed into a quieter alley that broke off from the main corridor. “Who or what are we looking for?”

“Well, he tends to stand out in a crowd, so finding him shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Kanan replied with a smirk. Continuing to survey the myriad of species that passed around her, Sabine cocked her head to the side at the man’s turned back, clicking her teeth in frustration.

“Right. And that’s the guy you sent to surveil an Imperial facility?” Scanning the crowd, Kanan shrugged.

“Didn’t have many options. Besides, he doesn’t try to find trouble. Trouble just has a way of finding him.” The two paused as they rounded a corner to find an Imperial transport idling in the center of the thoroughfare, the strobe of its lights illuminating the darkened walls in red and blue. “Actually, I take that back,” Kanan said, turning to Sabine with a cheeky grin. “He finds his own trouble. A lot.” Gesturing for her to follow, he slipped through the crowd to the side of the vehicle, standing just beside it’s doorway. “Stand here,” he whispered just above the noise of the crowd, motioning to just in front of the door. Hesitating a moment before complying, Sabine watched as he rapped his knuckles twice against the side of the transport. A small camera protruded from the side of the vehicle, sweeping over the crowd before pointing directly at her.

“Who are you?” a disembodied voice demanded. Before Sabine could sputter a reply, Kanan leaned forward, just out of the camera’s field of view.

“Cadet C-D-Six-Nine-Eight-Seven, sir. I’m… um… I’m lost…” Kanan announced, muffling his voice with his fist.

“Oh, for the love of…” the voice muttered as the camera retracted back into the vehicle. Sabine turned to Kanan speechlessly as the man continued to grin, drawing his blaster. The hatch slid open, and before Sabine or the Stormtrooper inside could react, Kanan leapt inside the vehicle, the cobalt flashes of stun rounds from his blaster blending with the blue strobe of the emergency lights. Clambering inside the vehicle and sealing the door behind her, Sabine turned to Kanan with fists clenched, stepping over the incapacitated trooper towards him.

“You could have told me you were going to do that!” she barked as Kanan crouched over a bank of radios bolted into the side of the wall.

“Sorry about that,” Kanan replied, his apologetic tone clashing with the sly grin that continued to turn at his lips. “But windows of opportunity only stay open for so long.” Turning up the volume of the speakers, the chatter of radio dispatches began to fill the cramped compartment.

“I thought you told said the Imperials didn’t know where he was,” Sabine questioned. Kanan nodded, slouching back into the seat left unoccupied by the fallen Stormtrooper.

“He hasn’t been captured, yes. But active searches don’t always get reported off-world.”

“Still,” Sabine objected, “there’s no guarantee that they’re looking in this area, or that-“ Kanan held up an interrupting finger, increasing the volume on one of the radio sets.

“…at least two meters tall, armed with some sort of staff… troopers down in section seven, suspect might be heading to the upper levels, in section ten or thirteen…” Listening to the transmissions, Kanan shook his head with a chuckle.

“Like I said, trouble finds him. Let’s go.” Slipping out of the transport, the two pushed their way through the street towards a crowd gathering around the darkened opening of another small alleyway.  The murmuring pedestrians were gathered around a trio of Stormtroopers lying motionless on the ground, two others trying in vain to maintain order at the scene. Glancing at the fallen troopers, Kanan nodded towards the alleyway. “It’s definitely him. C’mon.” Slipping past the overwhelmed sentries, Sabine and Kanan took off down the darkened corridor. Without the incessant noise of other pedestrians, the passage was eerily still, only the _hiss_ of leaky pipes and the distant rumble of speeders audible over the echo of their footsteps. Dim lamps struggled to cast their amber glow over the countless shadows that played across the ribbed walls. As they rounded yet another winding corner, the murmur of electronic voices brought them to a sudden halt. A team of Stormtroopers, their flashlights pointed up into the heights of the levels above them, collectively turned to face them with weapons trained.

“What are you doing here? This section’s under lockdown!” the lead trooper demanded. Kanan held his hands to his sides, ignorance and innocence plastered across his face.

“Sorry, must have taken a wrong turn-“ Kanan began, only to be cut off by the _click_ of arming blasters.

“Hands up, both of you!” the trooper ordered, as the others began to advance towards them. Sabine watched as Kanan’s eyes flicked upward, then his hands began to raise above his head.

“Do as they say,” Kanan instructed, as Sabine stared at him incredulously.

“You’ve got to be kidding-“ Sabine sputtered, frantically searching for cover between her and the approaching soldiers. Kanan looked to her, a wily twinkle behind his deadpan expression.

“You have to trust me.” Gritting her teeth, Sabine looked from Kanan to the troopers, slowly raising her hands. As the first trooper began to reach out towards Kanan, a flutter in the corner of Sabine’s vision caught her attention. A dark mass separated from the ribbed walls above them, hurtling downwards and slamming the furthest trooper into the ground. As the others turned to face the new threat, dual arcs of purple electricity crackled to life at the ends of the figure’s weapon as he lunged over the fallen trooper towards them. Confused shouts mixed with cries of pain as the purple electricity slammed into the two closest troopers, the force of the blow breaking chunks of their plastoid armor away and throwing them backwards into the walls. The figure’s staff collapsed into what appeared to be a rifle, its powerful blasts felling the final two troopers. Sabine stood dumbfounded as the figure stepped from the shadows into the soft amber light, revealing a towering humanoid covered in short, lavender fur. The Lasat species were said to be all but extinct in the galaxy, yet one in the flesh stood before her, bo-rifle held in his mighty arms. Her awe switched to panic as the figure leveled its weapon at her, before Kanan’s quick grasp forced the barrel towards the ground.

“Easy, big guy! She’s with us!” Kanan shouted. Immediately the Lasat let his weapon drop to his side, his fierce gaze still trained on Sabine.

“Should know better than to dress up like a buckethead,” he griped in a deep, gruff voice. Hands dropping to her hips, Sabine straightened up towards him.

“I’m _not_ a Stormtrooper.” The Lasat cast an inquisitive eyebrow at her as he slung the bo-rifle along his back.

“Didn’t know Mandalorians came that short.” Sabine’s fists clenched in frustration, but before she could retort Kanan stepped between the two, shaking his head.

“Glad you two are getting acquainted. Sabine, this is our associate, Zeb.” The Lasat turned to Kanan, eyebrow still raised.

“Associate? That’s what I am now?” Zeb said, sarcasm and feigned outrage coloring his voice. Kanan waved off the comment, looking up and down the alley.

“I thought you’d appreciate the formality,” he teased before gesturing towards the motionless troopers. “Now, unless you care to explain to their friends why you decided to scuff up their nice armor, I suggest we find a different location to talk.”

* * *

From their corner booth, Sabine stared over the table towards the dozens of patrons that filled the bar from wall to wall. As seemed to be the norm on Kafrene, the din of dozens of bets, arguments and piped-in music mired all sound but the closest conversations in an unintelligible racket. Even through her helmet’s air filters, she could smell the pungent _t’bac_ smoke that hung over the crowd in a bluish haze. Between the fog of the smoke and the dimmed lighting, the visual filters of her helmet indecisively flickered between night and day settings. With a sigh of frustration, she pulled the helmet from her head, setting it beside her on the bench while running a hand through her crimson strands to free the sweaty mass of hair from the back of her neck.

“You might want to keep that on,” Kanan cautioned from beside her. “Places like these can get a little rough.” Sabine shot him an irritated glare as Zeb sidled into the booth on the other side of Kanan, setting three frosted glasses on the table. Taking one of the glasses, Kanan turned to the Lasat. “So, what were you able to find out?”

“The buyer was right,” Zeb announced, leaning back into the broken synthleather backing of the booth. “Local garrison is a supply outfit, does repair jobs and the like for the other posts in the system. From what I saw, just your standard security detail with ‘em.” Pausing to drink from his glass, Zeb produced a small holoprojector that cast a map of several long buildings on the table. “They’ve got a warehouse just off of the port that handles electronics and computers. They run a handful of patrols around the exterior, plus cameras and whatnot. Seems pretty easy to me.” Kanan stared at the holo, before looking to Zeb with a teasing grin.

“If it’s so easy, why did you miss your check-ins?” A sheepish look spread over Zeb’s face as he ran his meaty hand along the back of his head.

“I got made while I was casing the place…” Crossing his arms, Kanan leaned back into his own seat with an unconvinced smirk as Zeb held his hands up in penance. “I swear, the buckethead ran into my fist!” Sabine leaned forward over the table, looking at the hologram before turning to Zeb and Kanan.

“Can someone _please_ tell me what’s going on here? Why are you so interested in Imperial supply depots?” Zeb shot a hesitant look towards Kanan, who turned to face Sabine.

“The Empire is upgrading the software for the navigation systems of their cruisers and medium-range patrol craft. Part of that process is sending hard drives from their navicomputers to supply depots like this one to be formatted. Those hard drives carry the patrol routes for entire sectors of the Outer Rim.”

“Which your ‘buyer’ is interested in acquiring, I’m sure,” Sabine determined, earning a slow nod from Kanan. “So that’s what you guys are. Thieves,” she concluded, a scornful look creeping across her face. Zeb chuckled, giving Kanan a nudge with his shoulder.

“That’s one way to put it,” Zeb said as Kanan shook his head, leaning closer towards Sabine.

“Yes, those patrol routes are valuable to smugglers, spice-runners and the like,” Kanan began, before lowering his voice until it was barely audible over the noise of the room. “But they’re also a big step towards being able to stand against the Empire. We take from the Empire to help others who can’t help themselves. Even though they can’t stand today, they might be able to rise tomorrow, which would be the start of something bigger.” Eyes widening, Sabine opened her mouth to inquire further when a Duros ambled to their booth, leaning heavily against the table. The three straightened in their seats as the visitor staggered towards Sabine’s end of the table before turning to Kanan.

“What a stunning specimen you have here,” the Duros began, the heavy smell of spice wafting into Sabine’s nostrils as he spoke, staring down at her. She felt the heat of fear and anger rising in her face as the man’s hand begin to extend towards her. “What’s your price?” the Duro inquired, as his fingertips grazed the edges of her hair.

Before her hand could reach the grips of her blaster, a sudden flash of purple lurched in front of her, upending the table. The Duros’s cry of surprise was drown out beneath the enraged roar that rumbled from Zeb’s chest as he bent the creature’s hand backward towards its neck, the wet crackle of snapping bone piercing the noise of the bar. The Duro’s screech of pain was cut short as Zeb’s paw encircled his throat, lifting him from the floor as his feet kicked in a futile attempt at escape.

“ _Nobody here’s for sale!”_ Zeb bellowed, his announcement resounding through the now-silent bar. Unable to respond, the Duros gagged for air, desperately clawing at the immovable hand locked his neck.

“ _Zeb!_ ” Kanan’s voice rang out from behind the Lasat. “ _Enough!_ ” Zeb remained frozen in place a moment longer, only the sound of the other man’s choking audible in the room. Then, with a snarl he slammed the Duros onto the top of a nearby table, muttering under his breath as he turned away. Tossing a handful of credits on their now-vacant bench, Kanan placed a leading hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “It’s time for us to go,” he ordered, urging her towards the door.  Silently slipping the helmet back over her head, Sabine pushed towards the exit, drawing closer to the burly Lasat as she avoided the dozens of lingering stares around her.

* * *

Peering through the rangefinder of her helmet, Sabine watched as Kanan ambled inconspicuously down the street, occasionally speaking with street vendors and slowly making his way towards the front office of the supply depot. From where they lay on the rooftop, she could observe the length of the Imperial facility adjacent to them. True to Zeb’s hologram, the main warehouse dwarfed the other buildings in the area, spanning three blocks of the port district. A low wall ran between the street and the nearest building, creating a narrow path where the occasional patrol of Stormtroopers could pass. An Imperial Officer emerged from the gate of the compound, joining the throng of pedestrians on the sidewalk. Bumping into his shoulder, Kanan mouthed what appeared to be an apology before the two went about their ways, Kanan discreetly bringing a comlink to his mouth.

“Alright, I’ve got the identification card,” his voice crackled from Zeb’s comlink as Sabine observed him flash the pilfered token in their direction. “Once I’m inside, I’ll let you know when I’ve got the back door unlocked. Wish me luck.”

“You’ll need it,” Zeb scoffed into the comlink. Sabine watched as a smirk momentarily crossed Kanan’s face, disappearing as he walked to the access gate. Swiping the card through a panel next to the doorway, his shoulders visibly relaxed as the light on the panel changed from red to green, and he disappeared through the gate into the compound. Raising the stalk of the rangefinder, Sabine turned to Zeb, who continued to scan the compound with a pair of macrobinoculars.

“Think he’ll be able to get access to the door controls?” Sabine asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in her voice with indifference.

“Kanan’s a clever guy. I wouldn’t worry too much about him,” Zeb replied, his gaze still fixed to the street.

“I’m sure,” Sabine remarked, studying the Lasat. Other than the occasional twitch of his pointed ears, Zeb’s expression was completely placid, appearing completely focused on the binoculars he held in his paws. An uncomfortable silence fell over the two as they continued to observe the compound, all the while the events of day continuing to boil through Sabine’s mind. Again turning to him, Sabine cleared her throat before breaking the stillness.

“About what happened in the bar…” Sabine began, before trailing off slightly as Zeb remained focused on the binoculars. “I could have handled myself.”

“I’m sure you could have,” Zeb stated, a slight smile creeping at the edges of his lips as he continued to look elsewhere. Sabine pursed her lips as she tried to decipher what the comment meant, before rolling to her side to face the Lasat fully.

“Then, why did you…  stop him?” she asked. The small smile disappeared from Zeb’s lips as ears seemed to droop lower to his head. Lowering the macrobinocluars, he turned his head to Sabine.

“What do you know ‘bout Lasan?” Zeb asked. Sabine hesitated, her mind racing to retrieve long-buried memories from the Academy’s history books.

“Um… well, it’s the homeworld of the Lasat… obviously…” she muttered, blushing slightly as Zeb chuckled at her response. “During the Clone Wars it was a major supplier of droids and tech for the Grand Army…” she said, unsure if she should continue with the planet’s history.

“Go on,” Zeb encouraged, his expression still undecipherable to Sabine.

“Shortly after the rise of the New Order, there was an insurrection…” Sabine mumbled, trailing off as Zeb’s ears flattened towards the top of his head. He looked to the street, then back to her, a glimmer of sadness behind his green eyes.

“That’s how they’re teaching it, huh?” he asked. Sabine nodded, grateful that the helmet concealed the shame that burned at the top of her ears. Zeb shook his head before turning completely to Sabine. Rather than anger or incredulity at her words, only gentleness and teaching carried in his deep voice.

“After the Empire came to Lasan, there weren’t many of us left,” Zeb began. “We were scattered, homeless, and the Empire wanted us dead. So, a lot of my people tried to hide in the darker corners of the galaxy. Problem is, when you’re alone and afraid, there are a lot’a people who’ll take advantage of that, no matter how big you are.” He gestured towards the Imperial compound, the sadness in his gaze flashing to anger. “That lot is more than willing to turn a blind eye if it makes them a quick credit or silences an opinion they don’t like. Every day, my kind and millions of others are bought and sold like nerf at a market. If it hadn’t been for Kanan and Hera, I’d probably be carrying a ball ‘n chain instead of a bo-rifle.”

Sabine found herself wide-eyed and listening intently to the Lasat’s story. Shifting uncomfortably, Zeb coughed and picked up the macrobinoculars, rolling the optics over in his hands. “That’s more than enough history for you,” he announced as he resumed his search of the street, before the optics drooped in his hands as he turned his head back towards Sabine. “Long story short, I’m not sittin’ by and watching another person be sold. Not when I can do something about it.” Sabine rolled back to her stomach, pondering his words as she looked out into the compound beyond. As she opened her mouth to ask more, the crackling of the comlink cut her short.

“Almost to the access point. Next patrol will passing soon, start getting in position,” Kanan’s disembodied voice announced. Turning to Zeb with a nod of acknowledgement, Sabine eased herself over the edge of the roofline, lowering herself from pipe to pipe along the side of the wall before dropping silently to the street below. Dashing across the street into the darkened alley at the edge of the complex, the two pressed themselves against the divider wall, listening for the clattering of plastoid armor. Sure as Kanan had said, the footsteps and idle conversation of a passing Stormtrooper patrol came and went. Receiving a boost from Zeb’s offered hand, Sabine scaled the wall and ran to the unguarded loading dock, drawing her blasters and looking for additional patrols.

“We’re at the door,” Zeb whispered into the comlink, bo-rifle tucked tight into his shoulder. As seconds ticked away with no response, Sabine felt a trickle of nervous sweat running along the nape of her neck as her eyes flicked from the red light above the loading door and back to the trooper’s patrol route. “Today’d be good,” Zeb muttered tersely into the comlink. An agonizing moment later, the light flickered green, the creaking of the mechanical lock disengaging announcing their safe passage. As her eyes slowly adjusted from the light of the streets to the darkened warehouse, the enormous scale of the facility became apparent. Built like a starship hangar, the high ceilings of the building covered countless aisles of shelves, stacked with weapons, armor, and parts of every kind. Fighting her urge to wander the aisles like a child in a toy store, she turned to Zeb. Behind her, the Lasat had pulled a small box from one of the starship maintenance shelves, putting it in the bag he carried with a mischievous grin.

“Where exactly is this hard drive?” Sabine asked, grabbing a bundle of blasting caps and handing it to Zeb to add to his collection. He opened his mouth to reply, before scratching at the back of his head and bringing the comlink to his mouth.

“Erm… where exactly are the hard drives we’re lookin’ for?” The comlink sat silent for a moment, before what sounded like a sigh crackled from the device.

“Follow the signs to electronics repair and maintenance. I’ve got the cameras disabled for a little while, but not long enough for you two to be shopping around.” Sabine shot Zeb a surprised glance, to which he replied with another sly grin and a shrug.

“Nothing gets past him. Let’s go.” Winding their way through the maze of aisles, they came to a halt outside a long cage that surrounded a row of gently humming computer terminals. Approaching the gate, Zeb thumbed the comlink to life again.

“Need the cage door open.” The comlink remained silent, as the red light above the door remain brightly illuminated.

“Door? There’s no door listed here…” Kanan announced from the comlink.

“ _Karabast,_ ” Zeb muttered, leveling his bo-rifle at the control panel.

“ _Wait!_ ” Sabine hissed, pushing the barrel of his weapon aside. “I’ve got this.” Producing a small multitool from her belt, she carefully unscrewed the panel from the wall, rocking the mess of wires from their port. As she gingerly snipped several of the wires, the light went out from above the door.

“You sure you’ve got this?” Zeb growled as she slowly crossed the cut wires, carefully intertwining them while avoiding the sparks arcing from the panel. Biting her lip, she delicately eased the panel back into the wall, pressing the access button. The light above the door illuminated with a vibrant green light, and the gate swung freely open.

“I’ve got this,” Sabine announced smugly. With an approving nod, Zeb snuck into the cage and crouched over the row of computer terminals.

“Buyer said the drive should look like… _this_ ,” he announced as he gripped the handle of a data tape and ripped it free from its socket. Sabine stared at him in incredulity as he turned to face her. “What?”

“Military hard drives have to be ejected from the main terminal before you physically remove them, or-“ The braying of alarms echoed through the warehouse as Sabine pressed the grip of her pistol against her forehead in exasperation. “Or _that_ happens!” The sound of approaching footsteps cut her off again, as the two bolted towards the loading dock. Ahead of them, a team of troopers poured into the aisle, forcing them to duck down the adjoining hall as crimson blaster fire began to violently burst against the shelves. Pulling a tall stack of crates into the path behind them, Zeb vaulted forward down the corridor, only to have troopers appear in their new path. Finding protection behind a vacant hoverlift, Sabine watched as the Lasat warrior exchanged fire with the Stormtroopers, the powerful blasts of his bo-rifle tearing through their armor plating and sending the assailants scrambling for their own cover.

A knot of fear twisted in her stomach as the thumping footsteps of even more troopers seemed to echo all around them. Firing over Zeb’s impromptu barricade, a flash of white plastoid caught her attention. Next to Zeb, a pair of white armored gloves were removing the boxes on the shelves beside him; already, she could see the white shin-guards of at least three other troopers. Launching herself into a dead sprint, she barely registered the scorching heat of blaster fire tearing through the air centimeters from her head or the surprised shout Zeb uttered as he saw her breaking from cover. As she reached the shelf, she threw her legs forward in a sliding kick, the force of her body knocking the box and the trooper behind it sprawling backwards. Before the trooper’s companions could break from their shocked stupor, Sabine forced her blasters through the newly created opening, unleashing a hail of fire that cut the soldiers down at the knees. Heaving for breath, she could see the doors to the loading dock just meters beyond the fallen troopers.

“Through here! C’mon!” she shouted as she wormed her way through hole, throwing other boxes aside to make room for her larger companion. Extending a hand to help him worm through the tiny opening, Sabine bolted through the access door, Zeb throwing it closed behind them and placing one final blaster bolt through the control panel. The sound of more approaching footsteps prompted Sabine to wheel around with blaster’s raised, but Kanan’s olive tunic rounded the corner of the building instead of the expected white armor.

“I thought we were aiming for stealth!” Kanan shouted, throwing a frustrated glare at Zeb. Weapon still trained on the building’s door, Zeb shot back a sheepish grin.

“Eh, what’s the fun of that?” the Lasat quipped. Sabine shook her head, sizing up the walls and buildings around them that all echoed with alarms and sirens.

“Where do we go now?” she asked. Without warning, Kanan spun back towards the alleyway, firing two stun blasts that incapacitated a pair of troopers that turned the corner just as blue rings reached it. Turning back towards Sabine, he looked at the small comlink in his hand and smiled.

“Up.” Sabine cocked her head, unsure of whether to comment on the impossible shot or the ridiculousness of the statement. Before she could ask either question, the shriek of engines approaching rapidly overhead took her attention skyward. Weaving through the darkened canyons of the buildings, a small, boxy fighter dipped gracefully towards the loading dock, pivoting quickly on a cushion of air as it slid to a halt meters from their position. The ramp on the back of the craft flung open, revealing Hera looking back over the pilot’s chair at them.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” she shouted, eliciting another large grin from Kanan and Zeb. Sabine bolted for the shuttle, feeling the craft rock gently as it adjusted to the weight of the new passengers. Grabbing hold of an overhead strap, she felt the ship lurch as Hera slammed the access hatch shut and prodded the fighter into the sky, ducking through the other traffic above as they climbed into orbit. Floating among the asteroids, the freighter they had arrived on came into view, Hera guiding their shuttle into a small docking port near the stern of the vessel. “Chop, get us moving!” Hera ordered into the comlink as the four darted out of the shuttle and back towards the helm of the ship. The tension in Sabine’s shoulders held tight until she watched Hera slip the craft between the last remaining asteroids and launch them back into the safety of hyperspace.

“Another quiet afternoon,” Kanan jibed as the four walked back into the common room, earning him a surprisingly hard punch in the arm from Hera. Anger was plastered across her face, betrayed by genuine relief that softened her eyes.

“Blasting your way out of an Imperial facility is anything but.” As Kanan raised his hands in innocence, Hera’s gaze shifted to Zeb. “And you. You’re supposed to keep him in check, not encourage him.” Rubbing his hand against the back of his head, the towering Lasat looked positively bashful until Hera surprised him with a firm embrace. “It’s good to have you back,” Hera said, the anger replaced with a warm smile. Breaking away from Zeb, Hera turned to Sabine. “How are you feeling?” Pulling the helmet from her head, Sabine shook her head to free the hair stuck to her head and release some of the adrenaline-fueled tension in her neck.

“A little stiff,” she admitted. “But pretty good overall.” A warm twinkle lit up Hera’s eyes as she nodded and turned back to Kanan and Zeb.

“Kanan, you’ve got first shift in the cockpit. We’ve got some things to discuss before we meet the buyer. Zeb, the refresher. You smell too much like the streets, even for this ship.” Zeb feigned shock, pointedly raising an arm to smell himself. Turning to Sabine, Hera tapped on the orange droid that trundled into the room from the cockpit. “Sabine, you and Chop get to work on decrypting that hard drive. Let’s see if that thing is worth all of our effort today.” The droid grumbled a series of complaining tones, suggesting he was more than capable of doing the job himself. Hera shot the droid a scornful look, to which the droid moaned in acquiescence. As Kanan and Hera left the room towards the cockpit. Zeb placed a gentle paw on Sabine’s shoulder.

“Not bad work back there, kid,” he said, a soft smile shining across his face.

“Told you I could handle myself,” Sabine responded with a shrug. The smile on Zeb’s face broadened into a toothy grin as he reached into his bag, pulling out the box that he had snatched from the warehouse and placing it in her hands.

“Now do something about that armor, before I try to shoot you again.” With a questioning glance, Sabine opened the cover of the brown box to find a small set of acrylic starship paints. Mouth hanging open in shock, she could hardly mutter her broken thanks before Zeb had disappeared down the hall towards the refresher.

* * *

Hera waited for the cockpit door to slide shut before pulling Kanan to her, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him in a silent embrace. After a few wordless moments longer, she slowly unwound from him, grabbing her datapad from where she had left it on the pilot’s console.

“How’d she do?” Hera asked as Kanan slipped into the copilot’s station across from her.

“She’s been trained. Young, to be sure, but she’s been holding her own for much longer than just the past few days,” Kanan speculated, grabbing a canteen from beside the chair and taking a long drink of water. “Were you able to find anything?”

“Some answers, but more questions as well,” Hera said, offering the datapad to him. Kanan examined the screen to find a still image of a young girl smiling back at him. Her short, brunette hair and gray military fatigues couldn’t hide the youthful baby fat that still clung to her cheekbones or the mischievous glint reflecting in her eyes.

“Sabine _Wren_. Force’s light, she can’t be much older than 12 here,” Kanan mused, scrolling through the datafile.

“It gets worse,” Hera added with a somber nod. “Most of her file is redacted or classified, but look at her rap sheet.” Scrolling through the lines of blacked-out print, Kanan found the list of charges held against her.

“Desertion?” Kanan asked aloud, brow furrowing in thought. “Junior academies are usually treated more like boarding schools than actual military units… Tardiness and truancy, sure, but _desertion?_ ” Continuing to the bottom of the file, he looked up to Hera, once again in shock. “She’s got a _fifty-thousand_ credit bounty on her?”

“It’s a miracle we found her first,” Hera affirmed. “Somebody is _very_ interested in getting her back.”

“But who, and why?” Kanan thought aloud, before the cockpit door slid open to reveal Zeb standing at the doorway.

“Y’all need to come see this. Chop and the girl found something,” Zeb announced, an unusual sense of urgency written across his face. As the trio filed into the common room, they found Sabine fixated on lines of code pouring from Chopper’s projector, noticeably paling in the blue glow of the hologram. Kanan looked to the strings of digits, then to Sabine.

“What are we looking at?” Kanan asked. Sabine jumped slightly, as if she hadn’t realized that the three had entered the room.

“Ch- Chopper, build the model,” Sabine stuttered. The strings of blue coalesced to form beads of multiple sizes, joined together by single, parallel, and triple lines, bending and contorting into a long, spiraling chain.

“A molecule?” Hera asked as Sabine continued to engross herself with the projection. She nodded slowly, before turning to the three adults.

“A weapon.” The declaration caused the three to exchange glances before Kanan leaned closer towards the projection.

“What kind?” Sabine crossed her arms, lost in what appeared to be contemplation. Then, after looking to Kanan, then Zeb, then Hera, she drew a long breath in.

“Chemical. DT-017, it’s a prototype nerve agent the Empire has been developing for years. Colorless, odorless, undetectable to most species’ senses and small enough to pass through most commercial and military-grade filtration systems.” Sifting through lines of code that appeared next to the model, Sabine stared through the ghostly projection, speaking fully from memory. “The problem was how long the agent lingered; Imperial forces couldn’t occupy an area the agent was used on for weeks, possibly months. But according to this, they’ve managed to stabilize it so that it dissipates within thirty-six standard hours.”

“ _Karabast_ ,” Zeb exclaimed, crossing his arms in disgust. “If the Imps had something like this, they could have cleared all of Lasan without losing a single buckethead.”

“Exactly,” Sabine affirmed. Kanan and Hera exchanged a long glance, before Hera turned back to the projection.

“Do we know where they’re building it?” Sabine nodded, switching the projection to the star charts that had originally been their main focus.

“They’ve been developing and testing the prototype on Subterrel. Deployment is set to begin with the next few months.” Hera stared at the model, then at Sabine.

“We have to stop them,” Hera announced flatly. Immediately, Sabine’s concentration broke from the projection. Staring slack-jawed at the three, she started to back away towards the wall.

“Do you understand what you’re saying?” Sabine spat, unable to mask the panic in her voice. “Subterrel is only parsecs from Kamino, deep in the Imperial security zone!”

“The ship is called the _Ghost_ for a reason,” Zeb offered, shifting the projection back to the star chart. “Besides, a mining planet’s going to have plenty of freighters coming and goin’.” Sabine scowled at him, before turning back to Hera.

“Even if we get to the planet, an Imperial research facility is going to have security, and a lot of it,” Sabine objected. This time Kanan crossed his arms, pointing at the planet.

“Imperial security is often focused on direct, large scale attack. A small team on the ground might slip through the cracks.” Crossing her arms, Sabine found herself staring into the floor of the of the ship, trying to force her heart rate back down. This was insanity – no, _stupidity_. But at the same time, with every objection she posed, another person revealed another fragment of an idea. _No_ , she thought. _You don’t know them, they don’t know what they’re saying, they couldn’t possibly…_

“… the problem is the fact that the formula is already on their network. If we destroy the facility, there’s nothing stopping them from rebuilding and restarting from where they left off,” Hera continued. A hush fell over the group, as the three stared somberly into the star chart. Something burned in the back of her mind, something that hadn’t bothered her in what felt like ages – _conscience._

“I… If they have a network terminal at the facility, I could try to code a virus to corrupt the data,” Sabine offered weakly. “There’s no guarantee that it’ll work.” Looking up, Sabine realized that all three sets of eyes were now on her, a smile burning on Hera’s face.

“That sounds like the start of a plan. I’ll start working up the course to Subterrel.” As she moved towards the door, Kanan slowly nodded.

“I’ll work with Chop to see if we can get a schematic for the facility.” Ushering the droid from the room, the two disappeared down the hall towards the crew quarters. Arms still wrapped around her, Sabine shivered as adrenaline and fear burned anew through her spine. It wasn’t until Zeb cleared his throat that she realized he was standing in front of her, holding the breastplate she had been painting before the revelations.

“Well, this is….” his voice trailed off as he examined the plate in the light, an unsure look across his face. Using the base colors of the paints they had acquired, she had manage to blend a vibrant fuchsia that she used as the base coat of the plate. Across it, she had begun to doodle lines of yellow and blue, lines and spirals in an intricate mosaic of color. “This is a bit of a riot,” Zeb managed. Sabine’s gaze drooped back towards the floor, embarrassment flushing in her cheeks. When she looked back towards the Lasat, she was shocked to find a hearty grin on his face. “Rather like it, myself. Suits you well,” he announced, returning the piece back to the table.

For the first time in weeks, a full smile burned across Sabine’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for the delay in the second chapter; life comes at you fast sometimes. That being said, thank you so much for the tremendous outpouring of support for the first chapter! Your reviews, follows, and likes provide a ton of motivation to continue on. Up next, the mission to Subterrel and the more revelations about the crew! As always, feedback is always greatly appreciated!
> 
> All the best,
> 
> JA


	3. The Strike

Staring at the assortment of fuels, lubricants, and solvents that she had collected from around the _Ghost_ , Sabine knew that mixing the chemicals required her full attention. Homemade explosives were notoriously reactive and unstable, and a blast of any size in the cargo hold would mean an untimely demise for not only her, but also the rest of the ship. Normally, the risk hardly fazed her; the enjoyment of process would consume her mind as it had back at the academy, making her laser-focused on the successful completion of her work. As she began measuring and combining the various solutions, however, she found her thoughts drifting to the looming mission.

Attacking an Imperial research facility was objectively _stupid_. She had felt obligated to participate because of Hera’s seemingly boundless generosity and the fact that her uninvited arrival interrupted whatever operation they had been conducting on Ord Mantell. This time, however, they were striking a facility that was a bigger priority to the Empire and likely had stronger and better-trained security – all with less information, time, or planning. There were far too many variables: numbers of guards, locations of alarms, composition of traps, all unknown. The more she poured over the possibilities, the more the twisting grip of fear contorted her stomach. Failure would mean death, or worse yet capture.

_You don’t owe them anything_ , a voice echoed through her mind. _You’re on your own. Escape. Hide. Flee._

_Run._

Yet here she stood, in the hold of a vessel she hardly knew making bombs for a group she didn’t know if she could trust. A tiny current ran counter to the flood of voices telling her to leave, guiding her to volunteer for what appeared to be a suicide mission. She couldn’t quite identify what Kanan’s cryptic whispers of rebellion stirred in her that propelled her to make such a rash decision. The promise of redemption? Childish stubbornness?

The creaking of the hold’s durasteel ladder snapped her focus back to the mixture in front of her. The gently fuming vial shook slightly as a figure dropped from the ladder to the floor of the bay, even his soft landing echoing through the emptied compartment. Sabine looked up from the mixture to glare at the careless visitor, to find Kanan standing beside her improvised workbench.

“My mistake, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Kanan said apologetically, his turquoise eyes again seeming to search her face.

“It’s fine,” Sabine murmured, looking down to the beaker. Carefully measuring a small mound of powder from a nearby box, she tried to force her attention back to the mixture, bristling at Kanan’s looming presence. The occasional _tink_ of the stirring rod grazing the side of the glass echoed through the uncomfortably quiet hold as he stood silently, observing her work. Finally moving from her side, he quietly looked over the contents of the table, inspecting a row of metallic cylinders that Sabine had carefully laid on the end of the table.

“Imperial blasting caps,” he spoke, picking one of the charges up from the table. “From the warehouse?” Sabine gave a quick nod in reply, eyes still glued to the glass. “A good find, but not powerful enough on their own to do much more than make noise. Unless they’re paired with some sort of…” His voice trailed off as he looked back to the mixture, which had now thickened to a putty at the bottom of the jar. “…plastic explosives.” Sabine glanced at him, watching as the realization caused him to shift uncomfortably as he carefully returned the blasting cap to the table. “Think it’ll be able to destroy this chemical?”

“This mixture creates more blast than heat,” Sabine replied, shaking her head as she scooped the putty out from the jar, plying it between her fingers. “DT-107’s structure is covalently bonded, making it extremely resilient to attempts at destruction or dispersion. It can remain structurally intact in temperatures up to 250 degrees centigrade, and even then…” She paused, realizing that Kanan was once again staring at her. “No. It won’t destroy it.”

“In that case, how do you suggest we stop it?” Kanan inquired, folding his arms across his chest. Sabine shrugged, molding the putty around one of the blasting caps.

“The laboratory will have sterilizing equipment on hand. We can use their own tools to destroy any prototypes they’ve made.” Kanan cocked his head, gazing intently at her.

“You know a lot about this chemical…” Kanan pried, only to trail off as Sabine mustered the fiercest glare she could to end his questioning. The pair lapsed into silence again as Sabine again attempted to block out Kanan’s presence from her mind, busying her hands with molding another ball of the explosive putty. Kanan turned as if to leave, before a bowl at the far end of the table caught his attention. Bolts and screws jostled against the sides of the container as he lifted it, a viscous green liquid oozing between the bits of hardware. Dipping the tip of his finger into the bowl, he cautiously tasted the substance, recoiling and spitting as the sickly sweetness of the liquid devolved into a bitter burning on the tip of his tongue. “Mynock poison?”

“It makes the shrapnel more effective. Keeps wounds from clotting, so they’ll bleed out faster,” Sabine explained nonchalantly. Shock flashed across Kanan’s expression before he abruptly turned, carrying the bowl to the hold’s disposal. Before the objections could even reach her lips, Sabine heard the hardware clattering against the bottom of the basin.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Sabine demanded, rushing to the sink in time to see the last of the poison circle and disappear down the drain. “That was the only bottle I could find!” she sputtered as Kanan turned towards her.

“Absolutely not,” he declared, stone faced.

“If the Empire is too busy dealing with their wounded, they’ll have less time to deal with us!” Sabine spat, feeling a well of anger burning in her core.

“You and I both know that they don’t stop to treat casualties,” Kanan coldly replied.

“Fine then! They should know what it’s like to bleed!” Sabine hissed, her body tensing with rage. Pursing his lips, Kanan turned away from the basin to face her.

“Most of those troopers are conscripts, just people following orders to survive. If we fight like them, how are we any different?”

_“They aren’t people”_ Sabine shouted, hands balling into fists and she squared herself towards Kanan. “They won’t stop until every last one of us is dead! I’ve seen what they’re willing to do, what they’re willing to _take_ to get their way! What do you even know? What have _you_ lost?”

Kanan’s stony gaze flashed to a fearsome intensity that seemed to cut through her, making her feel impossibly small in his presence. Her rage evaporated into a deep shame that forced her eyes to the floor, jaw clenched as she wrapped her arms tight to her chest.

“No shrapnel. Blast only.” Kanan set the bowl aside, turned back to the ladder, and silently made his way out of the cargo hold. Sabine stared at the closed doorway, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The cold of the ship seemed to intensify, gnawing at her bones and sending a shudder through her entire body. Turning back to the table of chemicals, she hesitated before returning to her work, Kanan’s gaze still looming in her mind.

* * *

Staring at the image of herself reflected in the buffed glass of the small mirror in her room, Sabine smoothed the rings of gauze that circled her midsection before zipping up the bodysuit over it, leaving only a small bulge where the dressing clung securely to her side. The exertion of the previous day’s events had caused the gash to weep slightly, but as Hera predicted the wound looked well on its way to healing when Sabine re-dressed it. Even the deep pit of the wound had started to mend, enough that she had been able to remove the packing gauze under Hera’s careful observation.

Picking up the sections of her breastplate from the orderly row of armor she had laid out on the bed, she weighed the ancient _beskar_ in her hands. Turning the plate over as she had been taught, her meticulous eye searched for any deficiency. One day, when she had the proper tools, she’d smooth the surface and clean up the lines, but for now the vibrant colors were a much-needed change from its previous drab gray.

Sabine paused, contemplating the thought that had fleetingly passed through her mind. _One day._ For weeks, she had spent every waking moment of her life in that immediate instant. Out of survival, she had forced any notion of the future from her mind, thoughts that could only slow her or distract her from the threats that were in the then and now. Now, looking around the small gray room she let a small glimmer of hope flutter through her veins before forcing it away as she began to secure the armor plates to her body. If she survived the day, she would allow herself to think about the future. With a little luck, perhaps she could begin reconstructing some semblance of a normal life.

Slipping the blasters into their holsters and tucking her helmet under her arm, she keyed the door open and stepped out into the hall. She turned to make the short walk towards the common room when a low murmur passed through the hall, barely perceptible under the growl of the engines. Sabine paused, wondering if the painkillers she had taken were stronger than the previous dose, but the hushed voices continued, seemingly emanating the closed door of Hera’s room. Stepping lightly to keep her footfalls from vibrating across the metal plates of the floor, Sabine crept down the hall. Sure enough, the muffled sound of a contentious argument seeped from the closed door. Cautiously leaning against the door, Sabine strained to hear the conversation in the room beyond.

“The raids, the runs, the drops I can handle. But this… This is different. It feels different. It feels too much like then,” Kanan announced. A pause, before Hera’s voice carried through the door.

“You should bring it.” Sabine heard a sudden shuffle, as if someone had quickly risen to their feet.

“No. Absolutely not,” Kanan spoke, his voice cutting clearly through the door.

“You should,” Hera implored. “Going into a place like this, with so many unknowns… you’re going to need every resource available to you.”

“It’s not a resource, it’s a danger. To us all,” Kanan replied. “You know exactly how much attention that will bring on us, attention we’re not ready to deal with.”

“As if attacking a chemical weapons facility won’t attract enough attention already,” Hera stated dryly.

“This is different,” Kanan’s exasperated voice proclaimed. “It’s a risk I can’t take.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Hera replied softly. Another stillness fell in the room before Sabine heard her voice once more. “Do what you must. But you have to make it back. If anything, for her sake.” Sabine recoiled from the door, a small knot in her throat. Did they mean her? Why? A chill passed through her bones as she contemplated the implications of Hera’s statement. The door suddenly slid open, Hera and Kanan both solemnly staring at her.

“I… uh… wanted to let you know that I-I’m set,” Sabine sputtered, trying to fight the feeling of heat building at the tops of her ears. The door to the common room slid open, Zeb’s paw leaning gently on the frame as he leaned into the hall.

“Comin’ up on Subterrel now,” the Lasat announced, a slight twitch of his ears the only aberration from his otherwise calm demeanor. Hera stepped into the hall, casting her gaze to the others.

“Then unless anyone has any final objections, it’s time to go,” she announced. Kanan nodded, glancing once at Sabine before passing her on his way out of the hallway. Biting gently into her bottom lip, Sabine squared her shoulders before walking down the hall after the man. Passing through the doorway, she stopped as she felt the weight of Zeb’s heavy hand resting on your shoulder.

“Doin’ okay, kid?” he asked, his hardened face towering over her.

“Of course,” Sabine replied, mustering her reserve to paint calm across her face. “I can take care of myself.” A gentle grin turned at the corner of Zeb’s lips.

“Of course you can,” he replied before turning and leading the way to the cargo bay.

“Entering atmosphere. It’s gonna get bumpy,” Hera’s voice announced over the intercom as a jolt vibrated through the corridors of the ship. Sabine slid down the railings of the cargo bay ladder, to find Kanan standing near the loading ramp. Another shock jarred the ship, forcing the three to brace themselves against the walls of the bay.

“Good news,” Hera’s voice called. “There’s a sizable storm in the region that’ll cover your approach.” Kanan pulled the small communicator from his belt, holding it to his mouth as he gripped the railing along the wall.

“Set us down far enough away from the facility that we’ll be out of earshot. Once we’re on the ground, get clear and wait for us to call,” he spoke, a cold calm gripping his voice.

“Way ahead of you,” Hera retorted. “Opening bay doors.” With a pitchy whine, the ramp hydraulics slowly opened the maw of the bay. Powerful wind ripped into the bay, the cool filtered air violently displaced by the humid atmosphere outside. Bracing herself against the gust, Sabine looked out from the bay, stomach turning as she watched the craggy surface skim by mere meters below. The furious winds declined as the ship decelerated, coming to a gentle hover with centimeters to spare between the edge of the ramp and the ground below. With a nod, Kanan vaulted forward to the surface, Sabine and Zeb close behind. No sooner had her feet touched the rocky ground did the ramp retract, the _Ghost_ ’s sublight drives thundering back to life as the ship pulled away and rocketed back into the hazy sky above. Sabine watched as the ship faded from sight, before turning to follow Kanan and Zeb on the long walk ahead.

* * *

Kanan’s hand rose sharply, prompting Sabine to drop to a knee short of the crest of the ridge. Keenly aware of the uncomfortable trickle of sweat trapped between the nape of her neck and the padded back of her helmet, she tried to slow her breathing, forcing her body to take deeper pulls of the sickly, sulfuric air that still turned her stomach even after passing through the filters of her helmet. The ash of now-dormant volcanoes mixed with the industrial smog of the thousands of strip-mines that dotted the planet, hanging over the poisoned landscape like a noxious fog.

“There’s our target,” Kanan announced as they crept closer to him, handing a small pair of macrobinoculars to Zeb as Sabine pulled the stock of her rangefinder towards her visor. Across the narrow valley, weathered duracrete buildings were cut into the hillside. Asymmetrical and irregularly spaced, the facility looked as if it could have simply been the result of the erosion of hill, narrow gantries and thin smokestacks protruding from the uneven buildings. Other than a few small utility sleds, the complex was devoid of any sign of life, a rusted fence the only apparent protection beyond the abrupt hillside behind it. Zeb scoffed, looking to Kanan with one eyebrow raised.

“That’s where they’re building world-endin’ bugs? Could have fooled me.”

“That’s the point,” Kanan answered, taking back the binoculars to scan the valley below. “The facility’s cover is a fertilizer processing plant, part of an Imperial program to help revitalize the planet’s agricultural production.”

“Typical Imperial creativity,” Sabine snarked, earning a chuckle from Zeb but no discernable reaction from Kanan. “You couldn’t grow anything on this rock pile if you tried.” Backing away from the crest of the ridge, Kanan pulled a small sphere from the satchel he carried, twisting the object in half as if he was opening a metallic fruit. A three-dimensional representation of the facility shimmered to life, zooming towards the edge of the fence line as Kanan passed his fingers through the hologram.

“The valley floor has been cleared and groomed,” Kanan observed, “probably observed or rigged with some sort of sensor. This septic line, however, runs under the valley and dumps in the draws on our side. That’s our best way in.”

“So we go into a bug house through the sewer. Great start to the day,” Zeb moaned. Kanan gestured to their ridgeline as the facility once again zoomed out to show the surrounding area.

“Sabine and I will enter the facility, you’ll stay here and overwatch,” Kanan stated. “From this point, you should have clear lines of fire on the main entrance to the facility. We’ll sterilize the lab, upload the data spike, and then make our escape out the front door with you covering us.”

“Better you than me,” Zeb teased, nudging Sabine with his elbow before unslinging the bo-rifle from his back. “Just be quick down there, I ain’t crawling through the sewer after you two.” Securing the holoprojector, Kanan turned to Sabine.

“Are you ready?” he asked coolly. Checking the two pairs of cylindrical explosives fastened to her waist, she gave him a quick nod. Without another word, Kanan backed away from the ridge, sliding into a short ravine without as much as looking back to see if she was following.

As she followed him down into the narrow draw, a nagging thought pulled at the corner of her mind. In the short time since their arrival, and even before that in the hallway, something about Kanan had… _shifted_. Kanan’s entire demeanor had changed. The swagger she had observed in the streets of Kafrene had vanished. Long, broad strides became measured, nearly silent steps. His head, normally held high above square shoulders, leaned cautiously forward, as if searching or alert to the slightest sign of danger. His movements were methodical, smoothly maneuvering over the knotted, broken terrain, but never so fast as to make more noise than what was barely perceptible over the gusting wind. It wasn’t the demeanor of a smuggler or scoundrel; Kanan moved with the accuracy and caution born only of warfare, either by training or by experience.

By the time the pair had reached the bottom of the ridge, Zeb’s position was but an imperceptible cut into the rock face above, the facility now looming over them. Hunching to remain concealed in the narrow furrow, Sabine smelled the culvert long before she saw it. Jutting out into the channels that ran deeper into the canyon, a corrugated pipe emerged laterally from the ground, a trickle of foul sludge dripping from it. A rusted grate, its bars too narrow for even Sabine to worm through, blocked their passage into the meter-and-a-half tall pipe. Grasping the tops of two of the bars, Kanan gave the gentle push, then a stronger yank. The screws holding the grate, equally rusted, pulled free from their brackets, allowing Kanan to move the obstruction cleanly out of the way. Straightening momentarily to catch a quick reprieve from the constant hunching, Sabine pulled herself into the pipe as Kanan replaced the grate behind them.

The further they traveled into the pipe, the light from the duct’s opening narrowed into a single point of light, before leaving them in total darkness. Sabine counted her steps, trying to guess how far they had traveled, all the while trying not to dwell on what the soft substance that splashed under her feet could be. Kanan’s hand suddenly grasped her shoulder, forcing her to stop.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, turning as far as she could to stare at the man behind her. A small snap sounded behind her, and an iridescent green light suddenly radiated through the tunnel. Kanan simply pointed to the ground beyond her, extending a glowing chemlight forward. As the light brightened, it began to shimmer against a massive pool of liquid before them. The pipe had ended, opening into a massive chamber, its far wall still unrevealed by the chemlight’s glow. A few steps forward and Sabine would have plunged into an abyss of liquid waste.

“Thanks for that,” Sabine conceded, glad that her helmet hid her sheepish expression from Kanan’s view.

“There should be a service entrance to the tank on the other side,” Kanan said, pointing to the edge of the tank. “Stick to the lip along the walls.”

“Didn’t feel like swimming,” Sabine replied dryly, shimmying to the edge of the pipe before taking a cautious step towards the side of the wall. The small ledge, barely larger than the width of her foot, was slick with moisture, but she slowly began to edge her way around the tank. Her legs screamed for relief from the sustained awkward movement, but slowly the green light revealed the opposing wall, along with a squat balcony and a heavy door. Pulling themselves onto the duracrete pad, Sabine paused to study the door.

“Think they leave it unlocked?” Sabine asked. Kanan held the chemlight to the door, revealing a slimy keypad along the wall. “Didn’t think so,” Sabine sighed, reaching for the explosives on her waist.

“That’s not necessary,” Kanan said, pointing to the keypad. Of the row of keys, only the “0” key was clear of debris. Pressing the key four times, a slight grin crossed Kanan’s face as the keypad flashed green, the echo of the door lock disengaging bouncing through the tank behind them. Sabine shook her head in disbelief as they pulled the door open and stepped into the facility.

The corridor beyond dispensed any lingering doubt in Sabine’s mind that they might have picked the wrong facility. Unlike the drab, weathered exterior, the hexagonal hallways look ripped straight from a Star Destroyer, down to the immaculately polished onyx flooring. The heavy sulfuric stench was gone, replaced by the sterile chill of the purifiers that rumbled in the ceiling above. Drawing his slender blaster from its holster, Kanan stared down the hall as if searching.

“This way,” he whispered, the two stepping cautiously forward into the compound. Under the harsh white lighting of the fluorescent bulbs above, emotions swirled into conflict in Sabine’s mind. Fierce anger gathered in her shoulders while cowering fear pulled at her stomach as she stalked the halls, fighting to keep her attention in the moment and not on the uniformly constructed hallway and the memories that it harkened. From the murmurs of the public address system to the way her footsteps vibrated against the durasteel of the floor, she felt as if she was walking back into her past, to the hallways the haunted her nightmares still.

An arm grasped her shoulders, pulling her roughly into a nearby alcove. She jerked her arms to level her weapons at the threat, only to find Kanan pressing the two of them as close to the wall as possible, a finger held to his lips. A moment later, a squad of Stormtroopers passed through the adjoining hall, no more than a meter from where Sabine had been standing.

“Something’s wrong,” Kanan muttered as the marching footsteps faded from earshot. “The floor plans we have don’t show a crossing hall here,” Kanan mused, moving towards the doorway. He froze once more, before motioning hurriedly for her to move to him. As she sprinted across the hall, the blast doors began to open, again forcing them to hide behind the massive structural supports that ribbed the walls of the corridor. A pair of officers strolled by obliviously, allowing the two to quickly slip behind them, sliding into cover behind a tall cylinder in the room beyond. When the blast doors finally resealed, Sabine leaned out to view their new surroundings, only to feel her stomach drop to her feet.

Dozens of cylinders, identical to the one they hid behind, stood poised in neat columns like the extended fingers of a mechanical beast piercing the floor. Only the dark spokes of the Imperial roundel disrupted the dull, unvarnished sides of the containers, illuminated by the glow of a small status panel at the base. Creeping to the panel on their tank, Sabine cursed as she read the screen, her vision beginning to narrow as cold fear seeped into her mind.

“What’s wrong?” Kanan asked, looking away from the hangar to the display in front of Sabine.

“This facility isn’t just developing the weapon, it’s _producing_ ,” Sabine gulped. “There’s enough chemical in each of these tanks to kill a small continent.” For a moment, Sabine saw a shimmer of dread in Kanan’s eyes before he turned away, looking about the room.

“What happens if a container gets punctured?” Kanan guardedly questioned, looking towards the vents in the ceiling.

“No good,” Sabine muttered, her head slumping forward as she leaned her palms heavily against the tank. “Even if they could destroy the chemical, I don’t have enough for every tank.” Kanan pivoted towards her, turning her to face him with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“You said the labs could be sterilized in an emergency,” Kanan coaxed. “If there was a leak, and they can’t filter their own weapon, could they have a similar system here?”

“Imperial facilities are required to have containment procedures,” Sabine nodded, eyes widening with the realization.

“So we trick the system into thinking there’s a leak, and use their own building against them,” Kanan concluded, a smirk curling at his lips. Sabine inhaled deeply, looking past Kanan to the wall beyond him.

“If we can find the research lab, we can access the system when we start the data spike.” Nodding, Kanan turned back to the hanger, motioning towards a hallway along the far wall of the hanger.

“If this area was off the floor plan, I’d wager their labs are even further this way. Let’s go.” Bounding between the containers, the two waited for the next pair of sentries to pass, before hurrying into the corridor.

Following the passage to a flight of stairs, Sabine’s heart jumped as she spied black, blocky aurebesh letters reading _DEVELOPMENT_ above the frame of an oblong doorway. Gesturing for Kanan to follow, she slowed as she passed through the doorway. Past the entrance, the distinctive onyx flooring ended, replaced by a rectangular, duracrete-lined hall, sealed durasteel doors cut into the walls.

Sabine went rigid as the _hiss_ of a door opening echoed through the hall, low voices murmuring in front of them. She and Kanan flattened against the nearest doorframe as two men entered the hallway, engrossed in conversation. Turning away from where Sabine and Kanan stood pressed against the walls, the pair disappeared behind yet another blast door, the hall returning to its unnatural stillness. Easing back into the passageway, Sabine crept towards the room the men had left, peering through the still-open doorway. Empty chairs faced a long window that spanned the length of the opposite wall, rendered opaque from the reflection of the light of the corridor. Slowly stepping into the room, Sabine stared through the window.

The reflected light diminished, allowing the chamber beyond the transparisteel to be observed. The duracrete walls, stained from their natural grey to a rusted brown, seemed to trap the weak amber lighting that filled the room. Parts of the walls were chipped or scraped, a series of thick durasteel eyelets bolted into the walls at regular intervals near the floor of the room. On one eyelet, a length of chain rain towards the center of the room, the links becoming pitted and discolored where it was fastened securely to dark figure on the ground.

The amber lighting flickered, causing a small field of shadows to play across the mass as fur drifted lazily in an unseen current of air. Slowly, more details became visible as the amber light bathed the unmoving form. A limb, bound and twisted, pulled the gnarled chain straight along the rough ground. Glimmers of light, reflecting from a pool of liquid that frothed from the corners of a mouth. A pair of eyes, clouded but eternally frozen in a look of torment. The massive limbs and imposing frame of a Wookiee, contorted into an agonized shadow of its former self.

Sabine choked for air, but nothing entered her lungs. She tried to scream, but no sound passed her lips. Staggering forward, she pulled the helmet from her head, the weight of it pulling her arm back down to her side. Hand pressed against the glass, she helplessly stared at the corpse, yet another innocent slaughtered by the ranks she once aspired to join.

A shimmer in the transparisteel broke her trance. Kanan’s reflection materialized, his solemn gaze colder than she had ever seen it.

“Let’s finish this,” he stated, his tone untainted by any inkling of emotion. Turning to him, Sabine’s eyes narrowed into a savage glare before she forced the helmet back over her head. Training and hatred automated her movements. _Three steps out of the room_ her mind calculated as her body executed the ingrained orders. _Two charges, weakest points of the door. Seven steps back. Draw weapons. Kneel. Brace._ She paused, just long enough to see Kanan’s nod.

_Detonate._

Blinding light. A wave of heat and air. Sabine felt her legs push forward, her body rising and rushing ahead. Warped, glowing durasteel illuminated a hole for her to pass through. She felt herself mantle through the wreckage, passing through what remained of the door into the room beyond. White smoke and amber cinders hung in her vision, leaving everything formless and undefined. 

 Movement seized her attention. Out of the haze, the shadow of a figure staggered forward, the soulless black eyes of a white plastoid helmet gaping at Sabine. She felt the jerk of recoil in her extended hand, and watch as the figure jerked backwards, colliding against the wall. To her left, another trooper rose from behind a low countertop. Her other arm flowed effortlessly to his direction, a crimson bolt tearing into his side and throwing him back to the floor in a heap. Her eyes swept the room, hunting for the next threat, but found nothing. The room was still.

Sound flooded into her ears as if a levy had finally given way. Klaxons brayed as red lights began to flash along the walls. Metal creaked and moaned as supports in the door buckled and failed. A voice rose from behind her, muddled at first under the torrent of noise.

“Sabine! Start the spike!”

Sabine shuddered back into reality, stumbling forward over chunks of debris towards the light of a computer monitor that shone like a beacon through the smoke. Pulling the elongated probe from her belt, she fed the spike into the data port in the side of the machine, her trembling hands hovering over the keyboard as she waited for the display to change.

_SYSTEM STATUS: ONLINE. ACCESS GRANTED. INPUT COMMAND._

Sabine’s heart leapt as scrolls of white text poured over the display, her fingers dancing over the keys as she accessed the Imperial records. Ignoring the sound of an exchange of blaster fire from the doorway behind her, she systematically unleashed the contents of the spike, corrupting and polluting every record, experiment, and prototype she could uncover. Within seconds, the infected data leached into the computer’s upload stream, the malware transmitting to parts of the galaxy unknown to snuff out any hope of the weapon’s duplication.

“Spike’s in, uploading now!” Sabine shouted, turning to find Kanan crouched behind the twisted frame of the doorway, unleashing a hail of fire back into the hallway.

“Start on the facility! We’re running out of time!” Kanan ordered, jerking back from the hole as bolts screamed by, exploding in a cascade of sparks against the battered metal. Sprinting to another station, Sabine pounded commands into the keypad, desperately trying to bend the computer to her will. Shouts and footsteps were growing closer, the shriek of blasters ever more numerous and intense. Sweat beginning to seep through the padding of her helmet and into her eyes, she frantically made attempt after attempt until the screen suddenly went blank. Her heart and lungs froze, eyes locked to the display in disbelief.

_INITIATE CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES?_

Sabine gasped for air, hammering the ‘execute’ key. The sound of blaster fire suddenly ceased as a series of emergency bulkheads descended in the hall, the wailing alarm now the only sound in the room. Kanan rushed past her, eyes darting about the room.

“The lockdown cut off our exit,” Sabine heaved, fatigue washing over her as adrenaline began to subside. “How are we going to get out of here?” Back turned to her, Kanan began to walk along the far side of the room, running his hand along the exposed wall. “Are you even hearing me?” Sabine cried out, staggering towards where he stood. “What are we going to-”

“There’s a staircase, just beyond this wall,” Kanan announced, an almost serene look crossing his face. “Set a charge here.” Without the strength or will to question him, Sabine pulled the remaining explosives from her belt, pressing them to the wall just below Kanan’s outstretched hand. Dashing to the other end of the room, she curled herself behind the row of the computers before pressing the detonator. A shock slammed through her body, chunks of duracrete peppering her armor. Wiping the coat of powder from her visor, she turned to find a hole cut cleanly through the wall, the lights of a passage refracting through the billowing dust.

“Let’s go!” Kanan shouted, pulling Sabine to her feet before running to the hole. Forcing herself through the gap, she turned to follow him up the stairs when a low moan seized her attention.

She found herself looking down upon an Imperial officer sprawled beneath her on the steps. Struggling to pull himself up by a twisted barb of metal jutting from the shattered wall, the man looked up, meeting Sabine’s gaze with sheer terror in his eyes. Her jaw tightening as she stared at the stains of blood and dust on the officer’s olive tunic, a coal of rage ignited in the pit of her stomach. She slowly wrapped her hand around the grip of her blaster, pulling it free of its holster and aligning it with the Imperial’s face.

_“Sabine.”_

Kanan’s call pierced through Sabine’s ears over the blaring alarms. She looked over her shoulder to see Kanan, standing a few steps above, his powerful gaze locked onto her. Soot and sweat clung to his skin, but a gentle understanding radiated from his eyes that seemed to make the fury in her melt away.

_If we fight like them, how are we any different?_ Kanan’s question echoed through her mind as she stared down at the frightened man. Swallowing hard, she slowly lowered her blaster, returning it to its holster before turning and following Kanan up the staircase.

As they sprinted through the corridors, Sabine felt a deep rumble well up from beneath her feet. Dozens of troopers, officers, and technicians darted confusedly through the halls, too caught up in the chaos to notice Sabine and Kanan as they darted for the exits. Passing through the doorway into the haze outside, Sabine watched as a tongue of flame leapt up from one building at the far end of the facility, then to another, and another. A squad of troopers, startled from staring in disbelief at the base’s destruction, raised their blasters to try to stop them only to be cut down by the baritone blasts that rained down on them from Zeb’s bo-rifle on the ridgeline above.

Running as fast as her legs could carry her, Sabine could feel the quaking of the earth as the violent eruptions of the facility came nearer and nearer. Just as she began to fear the approaching blasts would overtake them, the shriek of engines thundered through the valley. Swooping down upon them like a bird of prey, the _Ghost_ ’s floodlights cut through the yellowy haze, skidding to a halt meters away. Throwing herself up the ramp into the cargo bay, she landed heavily on her stomach, Kanan collapsing onto the floor beside her. The ship leapt forward, banking hard to turn back towards the ridgeline. Rolling over to face the ramp, she watched as Zeb clambered up into the hold, slamming his fist into the door controls. The ramp slowly closed, shrouding the erupting facility from view as the _Ghost_ launched into the atmosphere.

“You gotta warn me before you blow the entire place up!” Zeb teasingly chided as he helped Sabine to her feet.

“At least it looked good,” Sabine quipped, pulling the sweat-drenched helmet from her head. As she looked about the hold, she saw Kanan wordlessly pulling himself up the ladder, disappearing behind the door above.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Zeb stated, reading her concerned expression. “He needs time to get his head right after the big jobs. He’ll come around.” Sabine nodded, her eyes still fixed on the door above. “At any rate, there’s only one thing left to do,” Zeb announced. Sabine spun to face him, confusion and alarm flooding her exhausted mind.

“What?” she asked cautiously, eliciting a mischievous smile from the Lasat.

“Get paid,” he responded with a chuckle.

* * *

Moonlight refracted through the violet atmosphere of Garel, casting long shadows through the circular hangar Sabine and Hera stood in. Hands resting on the grips of her blasters, she admired how at ease Hera looked as the buyer’s ship slowly descended in front of them, landing struts straining to support the bulbous transport. Even an untrained eye could tell from the oversized engines that hung from the ship that it’s business tended towards the illicit and illegal. As the ship’s ramp descended, a male Devaronian strode into the hanger, flanked by a pair of highly-armed droids.

“Captain Syndulla!” the smuggler exclaimed, gesturing towards Sabine. “It appears that your muscle has gotten significantly shorter.”

“And you’re significantly _late_ , Vizago,” Hera chided, subtly gesturing to Sabine to remain calm as the girl visibly bristled at the comment.

“I’m a busy man with a busy schedule,” the Devaronian replied with a shrug. “But you have my sincerest apologies.”

“Because that means a lot,” Hera scoffed, eliciting a theatrically wounded look from the smuggler.

“Did you meet me here to throw insults at me, Captain, or did you bring the item?” Vizago asked, placing a hand to his chin.

“We’ve got your hard drive,” Hera confirmed, idly holding up the component. “But only if you’ve got the credits.”

“Don’t think for a moment that because you hired extra help that I’ll pay more,” Vizago noted, as he strode to where Hera stood. Turning the hard drive over in his hands, he gestured to one of the droids, which brought a small satchel to him. Offering the satchel to Hera, he pulled back as she reached out for it, prompting Sabine to grip tighter on her blasters. “I do hope these charts still prove to be accurate,” he began, a devilish smile creeping across his face. “It’s so hard to keep maps up to date anymore, what with rebel groups blowing up random Imperial facilities and fertilizer factories.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, but you know how fertilizer fires are,” Hera offered with a shrug. “Sometimes, all it takes is a spark.” Vizago chuckled, before tossing the satchel to Hera.

“As always, a pleasure doing business,” Vizago said as he returned to the ramp of his ship.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hera replied, as the smuggler’s ship rose from the bay and slipped into the night. Turning to Sabine with a broad smile, she put her hand on the girl’s tense shoulder. “You did well,” she offered gently.

“It’s not the craziest thing I’ve done today,” Sabine replied with a forced shrug, earning a chuckle from Hera. As the two walked through the empty hallways of the spaceport, Hera reached into the satchel, pulling a wad of credits from the bag and offering it to the girl. “What’s this?” Sabine asked, eyes going wide behind her helmet.

“Your cut,” Hera replied, pressing the currency into Sabine’s hand. “For a job well done.”

“I… I don’t… Thank you,” Sabine stammered, stopping in her tracks to face Hera.

“Don’t thank me,” Hera dismissed, resting a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder as Sabine pulled off her helmet and tucked it under the crook of her arm. “Nothing that was accomplished today could have been done without your help. Your skill and courage not only got you out alive, but saved millions of lives.” Sabine’s head drooped, her eyes falling towards her feet before Hera’s gentle touch caught her chin, lifting her eyes to meet her own. “I told you that we all have choices. Sometime, we make the wrong ones. But that doesn’t define what we do with our _next_ choice.” Sabine nodded as Hera guided her on towards the _Ghost_ ’s hanger.

“Sabine, I told you that once this was all over we would take you wherever you needed to go. That offer still stands. But I have another offer for you,” Hera said, as Sabine looked at her with a questioning glance. “I know you haven’t known us long, but we could use someone with your skills around the _Ghost_. The jobs keep getting more dangerous, and gods help us the day we have to trust Chopper with demolitions…” Hera added, drawing a grin from Sabine. “The pay isn’t great and the hours are long, but you’d have a room, food, and an equal cut of anything we make.”  As they neared the ramp of the _Ghost_ , Sabine swallowed hard before turning to Hera.

“You’ve been far too good to me, and your offer is better than anything I could have asked for…” Sabine began before trailing off, glancing into the cargo bay before looking back to Hera. “Could… could I think about it for the night?”

“Of course,” the Twi’lek replied with a soft smile, guiding her up the ramp into the _Ghost._

* * *

Sabine stared into the ceiling above her bed, fatigue and exhaustion unable to overcome her racing mind. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, her body was clean, her stomach was full, and she even had a small number of credits to her name. Unbroken silence filled the powered-down ship, and the blankets over her easily warded away the chill of the night. Even so, sleep had evaded her for hours as she mulled the last few days’ events over and over in her mind.

_A fresh start,_ she thought. _A chance to do right. To set things right._ While Hera’s praise and recognition had been intensely satisfying, they posed a new conflict for Sabine. Her past still clung to her mind like a foul stain, deeds so unforgivable that even Hera in all her graciousness couldn’t possibly overlook.

_If they know who I am, the things I’ve done…_ She rolled to her side, pressing her hands to her brow. _What does it matter? I can’t let them get that close. No one can get that close_. _Not again._ She shuddered at the thought of how Hera had smiled to her on the ramp, or how happy she had felt when Zeb had praised her art. These people seemed kind, good, and decent, but so had so many others.

And then there was Kanan. Always a moving target, each time she had thought she had figured him out, something changed. She had seen him fearless and charismatic, but equally cautious and reserved. Impetuous and daring, then measured and precise. If anything about Kanan was consistent, it was his penetrating gaze that always seemed to be looking through her. Hera and Zeb trusted him deeply, but to Sabine there was too much about him that didn’t add up.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she decided to concede to her insomnia and see if she could find something to eat in the galley. Stepping to the door, she cast a glance to the armor stacked neatly on the small table by the bed, deciding against suiting up for what she knew would be a short trip. Stepping out into the darkened hall, she could hear the droning pulls of Zeb’s snoring echoing through the empty corridor. Finding a bottle of dark, ruby-colored juice in the fridge, she began to make her way back to her room when an object resting on the dejarik table caught her eye.

Resting on the table under a small pile of papers was a small datapad. Her eyes darted about the room to ensure she was alone, before she quietly slid into the bench seat and picked up the tablet. The pad had an active connection to the holonet, which spurred an idea to the forefront of her mind. Accessing the Imperial bounty archive, she searched for listings under the name she had heard Vizago use that evening: _Hera Syndulla_.

Immediately, an image of a younger Twi’lek girl populated the screen. _Daughter of Cham Syndulla, known dissident and fugitive_ Sabine read in surprise. The name had sounded so familiar, but she hadn’t even considered that Hera could be related to _the_ Cham Syndulla. Her story of home and her words of encouragement all suddenly made so much more sense to Sabine. From what the extensive list of ‘crimes against the Empire’ described, Hera clearly had made a name for herself as a rogue, something that Sabine admired greatly. Another quick search soon revealed a file for Zeb, his photo an equally younger shot of him in some type of formal military garb. While she had anticipated a sizeable bounty to be offered due to the Empire’s continued bloodlust towards his species, his was shockingly higher than she expected, owing to his ‘ _direct support of armed insurgency on Lasan’_ as the warrant stated.

The records seemed to confirm that Hera and Zeb, by word and deed, were exactly who Sabine had taken them to be. Taking a guarded breath, she returned once more to the search menu, entering ‘Kanan Jarrus’ into the request line.

The datapad remained blank for several moments, before a single page populated the screen. Kanan’s photo, while the most current of the three, looked barely like the man that posed such an enigma to Sabine. Instead of being held in its neat tail, his hair hung loose and ragged, covering sunken, bloodshot eyes. Unkempt stubble took the place of his normally neat goatee, more akin to a drifter than a smuggler or soldier. She stared at the face of a man at the lowest point of his life, or an entirely different man altogether.

Her brow furrowing in confusion, she scrolled to his criminal history only to find it filled with trivial offences. Vagrancy, public intoxication, and criminal trespass hardly fit the character of the man who had whispered of rebellion and liberation in the cantina, yet nothing more substantial appeared on the incredibly short record. A chill ran through her spine as she searched in vain for any indication of the man who Kanan was. No known homeworld, no date of birth, no known affiliations or employment, it seemed as if Kanan Jarrus hadn’t even existed until a handful of years ago.

A notification of an update to a previously viewed record flashed on the screen. Surprised that any of the files would have been adjusted so quickly, she followed the link.

_Wren, Sabine_

Her own, smiling face stared up from the datapad at her, consuming her vision as the surrounding room blurred into obscurity. Line upon line of text exposed her past, only the ribbons of black redaction offering cover from the growing sense of nakedness she felt. Panic welled up from her core, making the page indecipherable other than a handful of words that leapt out from the screen. _Traitor. Terrorist. Murderer. Coward._

_They know._

Her head jerked up from the datapad to look at the door. Kanan stood silently, the dim lights casting shadows across his face. Fully dressed, he stared squarely at her, arms hung at his sides inches from where Sabine could see his blaster holstered on his leg.

“ _Who are you?_ ” Sabine hissed, recoiling from the bench to her feet. Kanan stepped forward, the light revealing those penetrating jade eyes.

“I could ask the same thing,” he returned. Backing against the wall, Sabine looked helplessly at the hallway behind him, where she knew her blasters and armor sat impotently in her room.

“Nothing about you adds up,” Sabine quaked. “No history, no records, you’re a ghost. I don’t know if anything you say, anything you do, anything you’ve told me is true.”

“The truth is sometimes hard to find, and sometimes impossible to face,” Kanan replied as his cold eyes seemed to bore through her. “But you already know that, all too well.”

“Stop talking in codes, like you think you know me!” Sabine cried out, hands balling into fists. “You don’t know _anything_!”

“Then tell me.” Kanan took another step forward, now only centimeters from boxing her into the corner of the room. “The truth works both ways. What are you running from?” On the table, Sabine spied a half-finished dinner plate, a knife’s handle jutting from the rim.

“You’re right,” Sabine said softly. “The truth is _impossible_ to face.” Bolting forward, she snatched the knife and hurled it towards him with all her might, only for him to reach out and impossibly pluck it from the air. Not waiting for him to make another move, she darted to closest door, throwing herself over the railing and falling heavily into the cargo bay below. Pushing herself to her feet, she scrambled down the ramp and into the darkened hanger, not looking back as she bolted into the streets beyond.

Her side screamed with pain, her pulse thundered in her ears, but still she sprinted on, panic and agony funneling her vision into a narrow hole directly in front of her. The blasters, the armor, the credits, nothing that she had left behind mattered; only escaping, only running from the past mattered now. She rounded a bend in the street, only too late spotting the patrol of Stormtroopers that stood in the road before her. Skidding to a halt, she turned to flee, hearing their shouts behind her.

Immediately, she ran headlong into a white plastoid breastplate. The soulless black eyes of the mask were the last image she saw before something slammed into her temple, sending her tumbling into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years, to you and yours! Thank you for your patience and continued readership. Life can come at you fast, and sometimes all you can do is roll with the punches and make the best of things. Your support, reviews, and kind words have meant the world to me. Up next, Sabine's nightmare begins. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!  
> All the best,  
> JA


	4. The Nightmare

The first thing Sabine could recall was the pain. At first it crashed down around her, sending every fiber of her body screaming into the surrounding darkness. Slowly, the torment began take form, settling into a throbbing pain that centered between her ears that felt like a hydraulic grip trying to rip her head in two.

Sound returned, first as a sustained screech that beat excruciatingly against her eardrums. The disorienting noise gradually faded in intensity, becoming a dull bleating that pulsed in the background of her empty mind. The darkness gave way to a burst of blinding light, then a flickering from beyond her closed eyes as forms passed by around her. Some shadows lingered, others simply dashed between her and the light beyond, all accompanied by murmuring, undecipherable voices.

_Where am I?_

 Her memories were infrequent and piecemeal, senses and details more than complete thoughts: the heat of an explosion, the roar of starship engines, the stench of sulfur and ozone.

_Who are you?_

Her voice rang through her head as she watched the tongues of flame lapping up from the sides of the Imperial facility. A cloud of smoke rushed over her, settling into the haze of the bar on Kafrene. Zeb’s thunderous roar reverberated through her mind as she saw him hoist the Duros’s flailing body through the air and into the nearby tables.

_Sabine!_

Kanan’s voice rumbled through the room like a tremor that sent Sabine sprawling to the floor. As she pushed herself to her feet, she found herself standing in the common room of the _Ghost_ , Kanan still standing in the doorway with his arm outstretched, hand gripped around the blade of the knife she had thrown at him. She felt terror seize her heart once again, propelling her over the banister of the cargo bay and through the darkened halls of the spaceport. A Stormtrooper’s mask flashed into her vision, cold fear sending her stomach plummeting as she once again felt the impact of his fist against her temple.

_Captured._

The realization sent her mind into a panic as a shudder of motion vibrated beneath her. It took every fragment of willpower left in her to fight the animalistic instinct begging her to open her eyes, jump up, and flee; at this point, the only advantage she had was that whoever had taken her didn’t realize that she was conscious yet. She could make out the rhythmic pulses of a repulsorlift beneath her and the occasional hissing of hydraulic doors opening and closing.

 _A gurney_ she realized as she began to count the number of pulses of light that passed above her closed eyelids. She felt the momentum of the cart slow as they came to a stop, another door closing behind her, cutting off the mumbled voices with a swift gust of rushing air. _Maybe I’m alone?_ she wondered, focusing her mind to try to formulate some semblance of a plan. They had traveled probably fifty, maybe a hundred meters; if this was some sort of holding area, perhaps she could backtrack from where they had started and find an exit.

The whine of motors and servos interrupted her thoughts, a harsh light suddenly shining above her. Her heart sank as she heard the tapping of metallic footsteps striking the flooring, electronic tones renewing the sense of activity around her. She tensed as something cold and metallic touched her neck, slowly dragging along her skin towards her collarbone. She could feel the fabric of her bodysuit stretch against the back of her neck as the object passed under it, tightening until she heard the tearing of fabric, cold air chilling a growing path of exposed skin.

Panic broke through her remaining focus and seized control, her eyes flashing open and straining against the blinding light as she threw her hands upwards to take hold of the assailant. Through her blurred vision, she could make out a spindly arm recoiling, a small vibroscalpel protruding from the end of it with fibers of black cloth still clinging to its sides. A furious string of electronic binary spouted from beside her, and she turned to find a faceless, towering medical droid attempting to pull the extended limb she gripped free. A second and third robotic arm extended from its onyx body towards her, blackened claws opening at the ends as they reached towards her legs. Kicking one of the arms away, she felt metal encircling her ankle, causing her to wildly flail and pull in a futile attempt to escape.

Yanking the limb in her hands forward, she attempted to sit upright, only to feel a horrific stabbing sensation rip through her side. She looked down, seeing the fabric of her suit torn open to expose her wound, inflamed and now seeping blood onto the gurney. Dizziness struck her as her mind jumped once again to her fall in the cargo bay of the _Ghost_ , the memory of the impact eliciting a new round of burning, shooting pain in her side. The doors of the room behind her flew open as shouts and running footsteps approached. A powerful set of hands gripped her shoulders, jerking her violently backwards and slamming the back of her head against the operating table. A desperate, pitiful howl erupted from her mouth as she tried again to kick her legs free, only for more hands to pin them against the table. Cold dread filled her body as she felt a needle jab into her neck, the white light above fading until darkness enveloped her mind once more.

* * *

Zeb’s loping gate slowed to a cautious walk, the pads of his hairy feet nearly silent against the durasteel flooring of the spaceport. The first light of dawn had just begun to filter through the skylights above, casting a violet glow through the vacant hallways. Save for the earliest departures, most of the port was still fast asleep, a fact that Zeb hoped also applied to its cleaning crews as his eyes scoured the passage for any sign of the girl.

Generations of hunting on the plains of Lasan had honed the Lasat species’ natural abilities for tracking, gifting Zeb the heightened senses and intuition that he had relied so strongly upon during the many years he had protected the monarchs of his home world. What many would see as an empty corridor divulged details to Zeb’s interrogative gaze that together began to weave the story of the night’s events. The footsteps of a small team had disturbed the fine layer of dust that rested on the uncleaned floors. Dark scuffs from the black synthrubber soles of combat boots noted where the troopers had begun to chase their prey, leading to a small splatter of darkened blood that had nearly dried against the surface. As Zeb leaned closer, a few displaced hairs caught his eye, each dyed to an unmistakable dark crimson.  

“Over here,” he called, delicately touching one of the darkened smears before testing the dark fluid between his thumb and forefinger. He turned to face Kanan and Hera, his brow wrinkled into a crestfallen look. “They’ve got her, and not too long ago at that. Blood’s only started to dry, I’d guess an hour or two tops.” Hera knelt closer to him, her face noticeably palling with concern.

“Could it be someone else?” Hera began, a touch of willful disbelief in her tone. “Garel is a rough place, maybe a barfight or…” Her voice trailed off as Zeb sorrowfully shook his head, lifting the strands of hair from the ground. Still silent, Kanan turned away from the two, stepping to a viewport that looked over the Garellian skyline. Biting the inside of her lip, Hera looked to Kanan’s turned back, then back to Zeb. “You said one to two hours? If the Empire got her, booking will take at least double that time. She could still be at the initial processing facility.”

“ _If_ they don’t figure out who she is,” Zeb replied solemnly. “The moment they run her through the background check, that rap sheet of hers’ll pop up. Anyone’s guess what happens then.” Hera swore under her breath, knowing full well what that could mean.

She looked again to Kanan’s turned back, quietly rising and walking to his side. His gaze remained locked to the viewport, arms crossed against his chest. As she drew closer, she could see his bandaged hand clenched into a fist, knuckles whitening as his fingers pressed painfully against the cut along his palm from the blade Sabine had thrown at him. She had seen the look on his face all too many times; she knew his mind was busy tearing itself apart, rehashing and questioning his actions from the hour before.

“Kanan,” she called softly. He remained turned, but she could see his shoulders begin to sag in dismay.

“We knew how tightly she was wound,” Kanan muttered. “I should’ve known better than to push her.”

“There’s no way you could’ve known that she’d lash out,” Hera assured, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s young, lost, and hurting. She doesn’t know what – or who – to believe in.” She watched as his head lowered, his normally stoic expression uncharacteristically pained.

“I know what it’s like to live life always running,” Kanan said softly, his hand vacantly tugging on the empty hook on his belt opposite his blaster. “If there’s even a chance that we can free her from that life, we owe it to her to try.”

“Sabine’s chances aren’t up yet,” Hera implored, “but the longer we wait, the less of a chance she has.” Kanan looked up, a spark of resolution in his eyes. Behind them, Zeb rose to his feet.

“Whatever we do, we need to get out of here soon,” Zeb implored, his paw closing around the sling of his bo-rifle as his eyes darted down the hall. “If she did get grabbed by a patrol, odds are they’ll be back.” Kanan’s eyes lit up, the characteristic tell of a wily idea drawing out a smile from Hera.

“You’re right. If someone took her, then someone knows where she went, and where she’s going,” Kanan said, looking back through the viewport as an Imperial transport lifted off into the morning sky.

“And I think I know how we can find them.”

* * *

_She’s still a child._

Her father’s voice whispered through the haze that clouded Sabine’s mind. She stirred, peaking open her eyes in the hope of seeing her family beside her once again. Instead, murky shades of grey swirled through her sight, obscuring everything from view.

_You would do well not to ask questions._

Her blood turned to ice as the voice of her drill instructor echoed through the distance. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but the haze persisted like an encompassing fog that isolated her from everyone and everything. There were more echoes, more voices, so faint that even as she strained to listen they seemed just beyond the point of comprehension.

_Sabine?_

The clarity of the voice startled her into focus. She was staring through the transparisteel window of a speeder, her reflection vaguely visible in the translucent surface. Droplets of rain splattered against the surface, distorting the shape and edges of the drab buildings beyond.

 _Ord Mantell._ The revelation struck her with a profound certainty, yet something was distinctly wrong.  Like a flimsi sheet left out too long in the sun, the colors of the buildings seemed terribly washed out, even the flickering signboards above the doorways dim and lifeless. As she shifted in her seat, she realized that it wasn’t just the coating of grime on the glass; even the interior of the speeder bore the same, deadened tone.

“Still with me, space cadet?”

Her stomach sunk as she turned, desperately hoping that she had mistook the instantly familiar voice, yet the violet eyes that met hers dispelled any doubt.

_Ketsu._

A rage ignited deep in Sabine’s gut, slowly rising through her chest until she could feel the burning anger radiating from her face. She stared at the older girl sitting no more than half a meter from her, a volatile mix of hatred and disbelief boiling in her veins. Unlike her surroundings, Ketsu’s every detail sat in sharp relief, from the matte black of her shoulder guards to the sienna tone of her skin. The devious smirk on her lips only seemed to add to the fury inside Sabine, binding her throat into a knot. She wanted to scream, to curse her by every deity known to the galaxy. She could feel her hand tightening into a fist, raising to shoulder level, ready to snap across the short distance.

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” she heard herself say, as she tossed a playful jab into Ketsu’s shoulder.

_What?_

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Ketsu replied with a laugh, rubbing her shoulder as if the half-hearted blow had caused pain. “If you had stared half as much at your textbooks as you do at the colors outside, you probably could’ve been the cadet commander.”

 _What colors?_ Sabine pondered as her anger diffused into confusion.

“As if I wanted that,” Sabine quipped, settling back into the seat. “Besides, I didn’t need to stare at the primers any longer. I already knew what they were going to say.” The words tumbled from her mouth, but she had no control over them. A small datapad clattered into her lap, striking one of the grey, unpainted kneepads secured to her leg. As she looked down to pick up the tablet, she saw that her chest pieces lacked any marking, along with the armor plates strapped to her elbows.

“Well then, put those incredible reading skills of yours to use. We’ve got a job to do,” Ketsu goaded, reclining into her seat. The image of a balding, middle-aged human illuminated the display, wholly unassuming yet oddly familiar to Sabine. Scrolling through the file, she found herself more drawn to what was absent than what the document told. No gang markings or affiliations, no obvious signs of addiction, the man was a far cry from the handful of lowlifes the two had chased previously. The file didn’t have the normal Imperial roundel or even a local seal listed, just a photo, a name, and an address.

“This doesn’t look like an official bounty…” Sabine cautioned, grateful that a question had finally sprouted from her lips. It wasn’t the first question she wanted to ask, but it was a start.

“That’s because it isn’t,” Ketsu declared with a slight roll of her eyes. “Dude’s got a bit a gambling problem, mainly that he’s really bad at it. He’s in deep with his bookie and isn’t answering calls, so we’re going to arrange a meeting.” Sabine shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“I’m not sure about this…” Sabine began, only to be cut off by Ketsu’s sharp laugh.

“You think the jobs are always going to be clean? The way I see it, a job’s a job. This guy’s going to pay us double what any of those ‘approved’ contracts will get us, and we both know we need the credits,” Ketsu said, plucking a loose tuft of fabric from a burst seam in her seatback. She leaned closer, a spark of excitement gleaming in her eye. “Plus, I’ve heard this guy isn’t just managing the money of gamblers. People say he’s rolling credits for some very… influential groups.” Sabine felt her eyes widening as she leaned closer.

“Black Sun?” she whispered cautiously, to which Ketsu replied with a coy shrug.

“All I’m saying is that it can’t hurt to get a good recommendation. Who knows, maybe this is the break we need to finally make a name for ourselves.” Grabbing her helmet from the dashboard and slipping it over her head, Ketsu straightened and fired the ignition of the speeder. “So, are you in?” Sabine felt her hands reach for her helmet, a sense of foreboding washing over her. Before she could force another question out of her mouth, she had pulled the helmet over her head, leaning back into her seat.

“Let’s do this.”

* * *

Sabine wiped her hand across the visor of her helmet, inwardly bristling with frustration and confusion. Even as she cleared away the rain from her vision, everything around her maintained the same faded tone. Following Ketsu through the alley into the street beyond, she could see graffiti scrawled along the duracrete walls, yet the colors were muddied and barely discernible. As they slipped into the lobby of the apartment block, she could see the overhead lights flicker with the occasional power surge, the chips and scuffs in the tired walls, even the caution tape hung in the doorways of the broken lifts. The details were all there, yet there was a pallid quality to everything around her that filled her with unease as they made their way to the stairway.

Reaching their target’s floor, Ketsu paused in the doorway, motioning for Sabine to freeze. Peering past Ketsu’s arm, Sabine watched as the man from the photograph cautiously tapped the keypad of one of the doors. The muffled sound of a bolt unlocking echoed through the hall, then the door slid open, revealing a pigtailed girl no taller than the man’s thigh. Scooping her up into his arms, he cast one quick glance back into the hallway before the door slid shut, hiding him from view.

As Ketsu began to step forward into the hall, Sabine caught her arm.

“Ketsu… He’s got a family…”

“Most people do,” Ketsu countered, pulling her arm free. Sabine stalled, the unease now a warning flare burning in her mind. Seeing her hesitation, Ketsu turned back to her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Look, we do this quick, and nobody will get hurt. We don’t do this, and the next guy to find him might not give them that.” Objections burned at the back of Sabine’s throat, but she felt herself nodding, slowly following Ketsu to the door. Working a small spike between the keys of the keypad, Ketsu pulled her blaster from its holster, nodding to Sabine as they pressed themselves against the wall of the hallway.

The door slid open and Sabine rushed inside with blasters raised, only to be greeted by the warm aroma of baking bread. The man from the photo sat at a small table across from a woman of similar age, the little girl sat between them. Looking up from her plate, the girl stared wide-eyed at Sabine, her mouthful of half-chewed food hanging open. An instant later, she began to wail.

“Hands on the table! Get your _kriffin’_ hands on the table!” Sabine heard herself shout as the room erupted into chaos. The older woman began to scream, lunging across the table to grab hold of her daughter, upsetting her chair and knocking cups and dishes from the table. The man jumped up, yelling in frightened protest, only to cower as Ketsu advanced towards him, blaster leveled at him. Pushing himself between Ketsu and the woman holding the girl, he began to stammer in broken Huttese, pleading for his family’s safety.

Watching as Ketsu shoved the trio towards a couch along the far wall, Sabine found herself staring at the table that had been left in disarray. Three chairs now lay upended on the floor, but a fourth was tucked neatly into the side. The sound of glass shattering caused Sabine to spin around, coming face-to-face with a sandy-haired boy of no more than five years, standing with a cup shattered between his tiny feet. Before she could react, the boy turned and darted back into the room he had come from.

“Get him! I’ve got them!” Ketsu barked as Sabine ran through the doorway into a tiny kitchen. She found the boy with his back turned to her, fumbling through a coat hung on a small rack on the wall. Hearing her enter, the boy spun to face her, something metallic clutched in his hands. Reflexively leveling her blaster at the child, she saw him begin to shake, his hands opening slightly to reveal a small, Imperial-issued comlink. Heartbeat beginning to pound in her ears, she held out her free hand.

“C’mon kid. Give it to me.” She could see the boy’s finger slipping closer to the red button along the side of the comlink, making her finger tighten around the trigger of her blaster.

“Don’t do it,” she ordered, feeling her hand beginning to quake as the boy looked between her and the blaster.

_Please._

There was a sudden flash in the boy’s eyes, something between defiance and resolve that caused Sabine’s heart to stop. His finger calmly slid over the button, a breath away from activating the device. She could feel her hand clenched in a death grip around the pistol, barrel wavering but too close to the child to miss.

_Don’t._

She felt her arm drop to her side as she rushed forward, a loud curse heaving from her lips as the comlink clattered to the ground.

The boy pushed past her unfired blaster, sprinting to clutch at his mother’s legs.

Walking back into the central room, she watched Ketsu binding the man’s hands behind his back with a pair of flexcuffs. The girl and the woman, hands already bound in front of them, huddled together, the woman whispering in a shaky voice to the boy wrapped around her legs.

“We’ve got a huge problem,” Sabine hissed as Ketsu paused to look her direction. “Did your guy tell you he’s an Imperial?” The entire room fell silent, staring at the comlink held in Sabine’s hand, a red light blinking rapidly at its base. Dashing to Sabine, Ketsu snatched the device from her hand, throwing it to the ground and smashing it under the heel of her boot. Turning back to the man, she pulled a short hood over his head before jerking him upright, prompting the family to renew its fevered cries. As Ketsu ineffectively tried to shout them down to stay quiet, a gentle thumping from outside the apartment caught Sabine’s attention. She turned in time to see the door crack open, a small cylinder tossed through the opening.

“Get _down!_ ”

A blinding light overwhelmed her vision, all noise falling silent as her helmet’s audio safeguards reacted to the explosion. Throwing herself towards where the family sat, she had barely knocked the trio over when bolts of plasma began to explode where their heads had been. Shaking herself free of shock, she rolled to her side, firing both blasters into the pair of troopers that were in the process of charging through the doorway. Dull sparks burst from their chest as they pitched backwards, knocking into the troopers trying to enter the apartment behind them. Crawling behind the now-upended dinner table, she saw Ketsu crouched behind the vacant couch, a hand holding the hooded man to the ground.

“It’s time to go!” she bellowed, pointing her blaster towards the wall behind Sabine. Launching a volley towards the doorway, Sabine peaked to see a where a pair of blackout curtains had been ripped from the wall, torn fabric whipping in the wind from the shattered transparisteel window behind. Heaving a paint grenade into the doorway, she waited for the dull _thump_ of the detonation before popping up from behind the table, jamming her fingers against both triggers as quickly as she could squeeze.

“ _Go!”_

Ketsu jumped up, pulling the man into an awkward crouch as they scrambled to the window. Knocking away the remaining glass with her free hand, she manhandled the blinded victim through the narrow passage before slipping herself through and disappearing into the darkness outside. Racing to the exit, Sabine leaned out into the darkness to see the two fumbling down a fire escape bolted to the side of the duracrete wall. Pulling herself through the gap, she dropped down onto the rusted metal, picking her way down the steps as the ancient beams strained under her weight.

A wave of heat rippled past her shoulder, exploding in a cascade of sparks as a blaster bolt stuck the wall beside her. She looked up, throwing a few unaimed shots towards the trooper firing from above her before another round smashed through the metal anchor beside her, causing the staircase to shudder and collapse. She felt herself hit the falling railing, then a second of free-fall before she slammed heavily into the ground.

“C’mon! Get up!” She felt a hand grasp her shoulder guard, pulling her to her feet. As Ketsu grabbed the hooded man and took off down the alley, a chill ran through Sabine’s spine. Turning to run, she realized that she didn’t feel any pain in her side; no blood or even the stitching of the repair visible in her bodysuit. Rounding the corner, she heard of the screech of an approaching siren.

_Oh no._

The swoop bike screeched to a halt in opening of the alley. She could see two troopers dismounting as Ketsu struggled to draw her blaster with her off hand, trying to wrestle the man to the ground.

_Please._

She was sprinting now, trying to close the distance between herself and Ketsu. She could feel the first shot recoiling from her outstretched blaster, her free hand contacting Ketsu’s shoulder, shoving her towards the ground. One Stormtrooper was falling backward, the other was leveling his blaster. Familiarity soured into fear as she realized what was about to happen.

_Not again._

Something in her side exploded. At first, she felt only the impact of being thrown backwards, like a starfighter had collided with her torso. When her body finally met the ground, the burning began like a torch held to the skin, igniting each nerve into collective agony. A ringing filled her ears, slowly fading into a horrendous screech that poured from her mouth. There was more blaster fire, then hands were rolling her over, Ketsu’s helmet filling her vision. A string of curses was streaming from Ketsu’s mouth as she ripped her helmet off, before Sabine felt her own being slipped from over her head. Rain splashed onto her exposed face, mixing with the sweat of her brow before trickling into her gasping mouth, adding a saltiness to the growing taste of iron.

“Ho- how bad is it?” Sabine choked out as Ketsu pulled a bandage from her belt, pressing it to her side. Her tightening jaw told Sabine everything she needed to know.

“It’s… it’s not good.” Ketsu offered. Propping her up against the wall beside a dumpster, Ketsu tried to wrap the fastening tie around Sabine’s narrow waist, but the shaking of her hands caused the binding to fall loose, collapsing into her lap. Ketsu straightened as sirens began to build, growing with intensity. Sabine tried to push away from the wall but collapsed back as pain overcame her.

“Ket.. Ketsu I can’t…”

The haze suddenly broke from Sabine’s mind as sadness filled Ketsu’s eyes. She looked down to Sabine’s wound, then to the small swoop idling in the alley, then to the bound man still lying in the street. Rising, she rifled through the dumpster beside Sabine, pulling a length of filthy fabric from the container. Draping the smock over Sabine, she suddenly looked away, jamming the helmet back over her head.

“Ketsu?” Sabine trembled, desperate to proven wrong in knowing what happened next.

“I’m sorry, Sabine,” Ketsu said shakily, pulling the bound man to his feet. “One day, I hope you’ll understand.”

“Ketsu, please…” Sabine begged, trying again to push herself up but falling to her side. She watched as Ketsu turned away, pushing the man to the bike.

“Ketsu!” Sabine called. Ketsu didn’t even turn as she swung her leg over the saddle, the bike sinking under the weight of the two passengers.

_Ketsu!_

Her cry echoed in her ears as the taillights of the bike disappeared around the corner. Darkness descended with the pouring rain, surrounding her until only her voice remained, echoing in the void.

* * *

Hera watched as the trio of Stormtroopers milled through the busy hall of the spaceport, noting as the tallest of the three shook and cradled his hand as he walked. Slipping through crowd, she walked a pace behind them, barely able to pick out their voices over the noise of the corridor.

“…hand really bothering you that bad? Gods save us if we ever have to get into a real fight,” one trooper snarked as the third snickered.

“Laugh it up all you want,” the trooper with the hand replied. “You’re just mad that one punch made me your entire rotation’s pay.”

“I think we should all get a cut,” the third trooper interjected. “The brat wouldn’t have run into you if we hadn’t chased her.”

“I’ve got them,” Hera whispered into her comlink. Pushing her way to the trio, she yanked a small datapad free from the third trooper’s belt, before turning and sprinting back into the crowd. She could hear their shouts and curses behind her, followed by the yelps and startled cries of people in the crowd being pushed away as they slogged after her. Ducking into a service hall, she could hear the thumping of boots as they ran headlong into the darkened corner.

The first trooper never saw the staff of Zeb’s bo-rifle, which slammed into the back of his head and separated the helmet from his slumping body. The next trooper at least had the fortune of seeing the blow coming as the backswing of the staff hurtled into his face, shattering his visor and pitching him backwards. The final trooper tried to raise his weapon, only to be thrown by an unseen force into the wall, ripping the blaster from his hand. Kanan’s forearm slammed into the trooper’s neck, pinning him to the wall as he scrambled for air.

“ _Where’s the girl?_ ” Kanan shouted, only to be answered by choking gasps. He raised his fist, only for Hera’s gentle hand to rest upon it.

“Kanan…” she whispered. Jaw clenched, he slowly lowered his fist, allowing his forearm to pass from the trooper’s neck to his chest. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, placing a hand on the trooper’s heaving shoulder.

“You want to tell me where you took the girl.”

“I want to tell you where I took the girl.”

The trooper’s shoulders slumped, as Hera looked to Zeb with nervous anticipation.

“The suspect was detained and taken to central processing,” the trooper began to drone. “DNA identification immediately flagged her for elevation.” A low growl rumbled from Zeb’s chest, but Kanan’s shoulders remained loose, his forearm slowly slipping from the trooper’s chest.

“You will tell me where elevated suspects are taken.”

“I will tell you where elevated suspects are taken. Fugitives identified in routine stops are taken off-site and processed for transfer to the proper off-world holding facility.” Zeb clutched his bo-rifle tighter, taking a step towards the trooper before Hera’s hand blocked his path.

“That means nothing to us, this guy knows nothin’,” Zeb growled. Hera activated the datapad she had taken from the trooper, stepping closer to Kanan.

“Have him unlock his datapad.” With a word of encouragement the trooper numbly obliged, entering his password and surrendering the tablet back to Hera. After a few terse moments, her eye suddenly lit up.

“I’ve got her. They’ve just moved her from a medical ward to solitary confinement.” Clenching her jaw, she looked up to Kanan and Zeb’s eager gaze. “They’re moving her off-world tonight.”

“Then we’ve got to get moving,” Kanan announced, letting the trooper slump to the ground. “Chopper can break that datapad and get her exact location, but we need to be airborne as soon as he gets a lock.”

“Way ahead of you,” Hera concurred, raising her comlink as she and Kanan began to walk back towards the main concourse. “Chop, start the engines and meet us at the ramp in 5.”

As they departed, the trooper began to struggle to his feet, looking up to discover Zeb looming over him.

“Hope the credits were worth it,” the Lasat spat as he slammed his fist into the side of the trooper’s head.

* * *

Sabine’s eyes flickered, slowly opening to peer at the grey ceiling panels above her. Lying still, she wondered if everything – the chase, the operating room, Ketsu – had been some horrible, vivid nightmare.  A silent draft sent a chill shuddering through her body, and she reached beside her to pull the blankets back over her. Instead of the dense weave of a blanket, the icy feel of smooth metal greeted her fingertips. She shifted, her heart beginning to pound as she realized that instead of the worn, firm mattress on the _Ghost,_ her body lay rigidly on an unyielding durasteel slab.

Panic rising into a knot in her throat, her eyes began to dart about the dim space. The room, no larger than a few meters square, sat empty but for the platform that she lay upon. A stripe of red lights that circled the base of the walls cast an ominous glow through the cell, allowing her to make out a featureless sliding door cut into the wall opposite her. A single camera protruded from above the doorframe, the red recording light shining from it like an unblinking eye.

Propping herself on her elbow, she tried to sit up, only for a tearing pain to shoot through her side and force her back onto the slab. Heaving as the pain slowly subsided, she gingerly rolled to her opposite side, eventually pushing herself upright. Even in the scarlet lighting she could make out the blaze orange of the Imperial detention smock that hung from her shoulders. Hitching the tough fabric above her navel, she stared in shock at the row of durasteel staples jammed into her side, forcing the gouge of her wound closed. 

As she fumbled to pull the tunic back down to her waist, she could feel her hands moving abnormally sluggishly at the simple task, almost unable to grip the hem of the cloth. The lights circling the room suddenly transitioned from deep red to harsh white, causing a new wave of vertigo to crash through Sabine’s head. The door hissed open, a dark silhouette passing through the frame. The door swiftly closed behind the man, allowing her eyes to slowly adjust to the brightness.

“Sabine Wren,” the officer spoke, staring down at her with cold, unrelenting eyes. “Even you should know to stand at attention when addressed by an officer, _cadet._ ” She saw a flash of satisfaction pulse through his stern eyes as she physically recoiled at the word, slowly crossing her arms. Doing her best to ignore the spinning sensation in her head, she looked back to the officer, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m not big on formalities anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” the officer replied, clasping his hands behind his back. “You fancy yourself too much of a rebel to be tied down by authority.”

“Nothing _fancied_ about it,” Sabine hissed. “You have no idea-“

“About your attempted kidnapping of Imperial civilians?” the officer interjected. “About your wanton killings of peace officers? Or the destruction of agricultural facilities on starving, impoverished worlds?”

“ _Lies!_ ” Sabine barked, her side screaming with the sudden exhortation. “You and I both know that’s not true!” She clenched her teeth, preparing to feel the back of his hand across her face, accompanying the normal response of the Empire’s role in bringing peace and prosperity to the galaxy. To her shock, the officer paused, then simply shrugged.

“Perhaps,” he stated, his acknowledgement driving more fear into Sabine’s heart than a hundred blows ever could have.

“I’m sure you had your reasons. For all I know, there could have been something there on Subterrel, something so horrific that it rationalized the risk you took to go and destroy it. I wouldn’t even doubt that you managed to set them back significantly, given how badly someone wishes to reclaim you,” the officer noted, holding a datapad up for her to see. He drew closer, suddenly leaning towards her until his eyes were level with hers.

“But in the end, the galaxy doesn’t know that. Nor will it likely want to know.” Sabine tried to force the man back with her glare, but his sober gaze cut through to her core. “You can’t begin to understand the _power_ of the Empire. You destroy one patrol, three take its place. Stop one weapon, yet you fail to stop the next.” He paused a moment, letting out a soft sigh before inhaling sharply.  "Even in defeat it finds victory, as worlds are shown the violence and savagery of the dissidents, partisans, and marauders that oppose it. Ultimately, rebellion is hopeless.” He gestured to the orange jumpsuit.

“You tried to stop one weapon, only to deliver us the means to create _another_.”

Her rage boiling over, Sabine lunged at the officer, only to feel her legs buckle and collapse as she tried to rise from the bed. The officer easily sidestepped her as she tumbled to the ground, the room seemingly spinning wildly on its axis as his shined boots stepped directly into her view. She felt hands gripping under her arms, pulling her back onto the platform as she collapsed back against the wall. Staring down at her, the officer once again crossed his arms behind his back.

“You’re wrong,” she heaved, fighting back tears of frustration that had begun to cloud her vision.

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t change the _truth_. You would do well to remember that,” he offered as the door of the cell slid open. The officer paused in the doorway, turning back to where Sabine lay. “Hold on to that fire, Cadet Wren. With time and training, it too will be tempered into a powerful weapon for the Empire.” The door slid shut between them, the lights fading back to their ominous red.

She felt a tremor beginning to creep through her body as the officer’s words weighed heavily on her mind. She knew that someone was likely observing her from the camera, but she was beyond caring about appearances. Straining to pull her legs up from the floor, she wrapped her arms around them, burying her head in her knees and desperately wishing she could shrink away into the shadows of the corners.

For the first time, her mind couldn’t find a solution, or even an idea of where to start. Exhaustion pressed down on her like an invisible force, making everything seem futile and doomed from the start. Gripping her knees tighter to her chest, she felt a knot tightening in her throat as the officer’s word repeated in her mind.

_Hopeless._

A flicker of motion in the darkness caught the attention of her clouded eyes. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she peered across the room to where the camera above the door had begun to stir, shaking slightly. Abruptly, the camera drooped towards the floor as the lights along the base of the wall began to flicker. After a few flashes, the lights extinguished completely, the red light mounted to the side of the camera winking out as blackness filled the room.

The smell of burning ozone began to waft through her senses. She turned to find a small spot of the wall beginning to glow orange with heat, smoke beginning to rise from the durasteel plating. The molten metal began to spark and fall away, allowing a short tongue of blue flame to leap out from the wall. As she struggled to pull herself away from the heat, the flame began to cut through the wall with impossible speed and ease, sheering a meter-tall gash in the surface as if it was made of flimsi. She found herself staring both in incredulity and fascination, wondering what combination of fuels could make a cutting torch that impossibly hot.

The flame winked out from the wall, and the deep moaning of grinding metal began to fill the room. The disk of the wall cut away by the torch began to shiver, extending until it broke away under its own weight and slammed down onto the floor of the cell. Pushing herself upright, she managed to get to her feet when a light flashed on from the other side of the hole, a figure crawling into the room with her. Heart pounding, she raised a feeble fist in front of her, trying to shield her eyes as she staggered against the wall.

“Kid?”

The gruff voice caused her hand to fall to her side as her jaw dropped in disbelief. The light dropped out of her eyes to reveal Zeb hulking across from her, a shine of joy and concern twinkling with the glare of the flashlight in his eyes.

 _“Zeb!”_ she began to cry out before a furry finger pressed against her lips.

“Easy, kid, we’re not out of this yet. Can you walk?” She forced an indignant grin across her face.

“I can take care of mys-“ she began, only for her knees to cave, pitching her forward into the Lasat’s burly arms.

“ _Karabast_ ,” Zeb muttered, easing Sabine to the ground as he turned his head back towards the gap. “They’ve got her strung out on somethin’. She’s not getting’ out on her own legs.”

“Then we’re going to have to carry her,” another voice whispered. Craning her neck, Sabine’s eyes widened as she saw Kanan crouched at the opening, blaster in hand as he stared into the darkness beyond.

“Give me a hand here,” Zeb muttered as Sabine felt herself being lifted from the ground, passing backwards over the still-smoking lip of the gap. A second set of hands caught her shoulders, and she looked up to see Kanan carefully guiding her back to the ground at his feet. “I’ve got her. Watch my back,” Zeb whispered as he emerged from the hole, easing her upright with a gentle paw at the back of her neck.

“Sorry kid, this isn’t gonna be fun for either of us,” he apologized before hefting her up, draping her over his shoulders. She bit down hard into the inside of her lip as pain began to scream from her side, but as if on cue the Lasat gently shifted her, relieving some of the excruciating pressure. Gathering an arm and a leg of hers into one of his paws, he carefully stood, nodding back to Kanan.

As they stalked through the darkened halls, she felt her head again beginning to spin.

 _Is this another dream?_ she wondered, her head lolling against the side of his arm. With every step he took, she could feel Zeb’s soft fur brushing against the skin of her cheek. Taking a shaky breath, she could smell the sharp musk of sweat and earth, normally pungent but now oddly welcome after what felt like a lifetime of stale, filtered air. She strained to look forward, barely able to make out Kanan’s back as he silently led them through the unlit tunnel. The glimmer the indicator light on his comlink illuminated his face, taut with concentration.

“We’ve got her; on our way to pickup now,” he muttered into the device. What sounded like an exhaled breath crackled faintly from the speaker, before Hera’s composed voice followed.

“Headed for the northwest pad now. Keep your eyes open, Chopper says the spike should have fried the cameras, but you won’t have long before they get the pow-“

Amber emergency lights flooded the corridor as Hera’s voice was suddenly overwhelmed by static, then silence. The braying of alarms caused the group to quicken their cautious pace to a sprint, until a set of blast doors at the end of the hall opened to reveal a squad of Stormtroopers.

“Blast!” Kanan cursed as he jerked his weapon upright, planting two rounds into the chest of the first trooper before a flurry of blaster fire forced him to take cover along the corridor. Hoisting his bo-rifle with his free arm, Zeb knocked back another trooper before turning the weapon on a small panel mounted to the wall beside them. A heavy bulkhead slammed down from the ceiling above, cutting off both the troopers and their exit.

“Why can’t they ever make it easy?” Zeb roared as they turned, sprinting back through the hallway they had come from. Sabine watched wide eyed as Kanan beat the static-filled comlink against the palm of his hand in frustration.

“Hera? Hera, if you can hear us, _plan B_. We’re going _plan B_.” Sabine could see the hallways widening as they rounded corner after corner, undoubtedly getting closer to the exterior of the facility. Running beneath another bulkhead into what looked like a massive loading area, a sudden eruption of rapid blaster fire sent Zeb diving behind a stack of crates, Sabine slamming hard onto the ground beside him. Kanan slid behind a box besides them, peeking up over the rim before a torrent of blaster fire forced him back to the ground. Peering through a crack between the stacked crates, Sabine’s stomach dropped as she watched a trooper pivoting a massive blaster on a tripod towards them, sparks flaring up from the durasteel floors as the hail of plasma scorched the space between them.

“E-Web!” Zeb roared as he pulled Sabine back to him, firing across his body at a group of troopers who had begun to circle around to the crates beside them. He tried to prop himself upright to get a better shot, only to be forced down again by the repeating blaster’s firepower. Clutching to Zeb’s side, Sabine could feel her breathing heaving out of control as her eyes darted around the room for escape. Her eyes fell on Kanan, who now sat still at his crate, eyes closed as if deep in contemplation.

Holstering his blaster, his eyes snapped open. Pulling out the cylinder strapped to the small of his back, he unhooked a small ring that dangled from the hook opposite his blaster. Joining the two pieces together, he turned to where Zeb and Sabine crouched, the tension in his face replaced by a tranquility Sabine had never seen.

“Stay close,” he said flatly. Her mouth opening to protest, Sabine’s jaw instead fell open as Kanan turned and stood upright.

Brilliant blue cut through the weak amber lighting, refracting off the ebony walls of the hanger and causing the entire room to fall silent as even the Stormtroopers momentarily lowered their weapons in shock. Sabine gaped towards where Kanan brazenly stood in the center of the room, the azure blade of a lightsaber extended in front of him before he deftly rotated the saber into a high parry.

_A Jedi?_

The heavy weapon was the first to react, swiveling towards him and unleashing another stream of plasma. Sabine could not tear her eyes away from the blade, watching as he nimbly deflected shots away, his serene demeanor caused the maneuver to feel more like a well-practiced dance than a combat tactic. He batted each round away, the deflected blasts arcing back closer and closer to the gun, until one of the massive rounds launched the trooper backwards, the barrel of the cannon drooping down towards the floor.

Zeb’s arm wrapped around Sabine’s waist and threw her awkwardly over his shoulder as he charged forward, dashing towards the exit as the stunned troopers lost track of everything but the ancient weapon in the center of the room. Straining to look back, Sabine saw Kanan leap forward with unnatural speed, slicing through the torso of a trooper before deflecting a handful errant shots towards the other backpedaling soldiers.

Slamming his fist into the console of the massive bay doors, Zeb hurdled the still-opening exit, bursting out into the light of the landing pad outside. The mechanical whine of creaking gears caused Sabine’s heart to plummet, as the spindly legs of a pair of walkers marched on patrol. The bulbous head of one of the walkers swayed towards their exposed position, the long blaster cannon that extended from beneath its head swiveling in their direction.

Bracing herself for the coming impact, she felt the heat of a massive explosion ripple past her. Opening her eyes, she saw the shattered head of the walker swaying, then falling backwards and exploding against the ground. The other walker began to turn, its mandible cannon firing into the sky before the roar of engines drowned out the sound of its blaster.

The _Ghost_ soared overhead, plummeting down towards the landing pad before skimming just above the surface. The walker fired in a vain attempt to pierce the freighter’s heavy shielding until the starboard side slammed into it, crushing its durasteel cockpit and knocking it to the ground like a felled wroshyr tree. Zeb sprinted forward, leaping onto the extended ramp of the cargo bay and easing Sabine towards the ground.  Sabine pushed weakly away from him, trying to see through the smoke that had begun to billow across the landing pad. The ramp behind her was empty, the thundering of blaster cannons and the howling of alarms causing a panicked cry to erupt from her mouth.

“ _Kanan!”_

For an agonizing moment, she saw nothing. She felt herself clutching Zeb’s leg even tighter as the ship began to rock under the impact of blaster fire. Then, just as the heat of tears began to burn in her eyes Kanan burst from the pall of smoke hanging from the facility’s entrance. Leaping aboard the ramp, he fired back towards the landing ramp as he slapped his hand against the intercom.

“ _Go! Go! Get us out of here!_ ”

Without a second’s hesitation, the sublight drives rocketed to life. As the ramp sealed shut, she felt hands pulling her up to the second level. The shudders of impacts caused the lights of the common room to flicker as she was eased down onto the bench, Kanan hovering over her.

“Help Hera with the guns, I’ve got her,” Kanan ordered as Zeb sprinted for the ladder, making his way towards the dorsal turret. Sabine shivered as another blast rocked the room, but Kanan didn’t seem to acknowledge it as he carefully propped her up, snatching a medkit from the wall and pulling a length of tubing from the box. She stared up at his face as his hands eased back the sleeve of her tunic, dried salt clinging to his skin interrupted by dark trails of hair pulled free from the length behind his head. The pinch of a needle bit her skin as he carefully connected a fluid bag into her arm, the pain nothing compared to the confusion tearing at her heart.

“I… I don’t…”

“Save your strength,” Kanan soothed. A torrent of images cascaded through Sabine’s mind: the way her blasters had been pulled from her hands, the impossible reflexes and shots, the lack of records… suddenly, everything and nothing at all made sense. Pulling a penlight from the medkit, Kanan slowly crossed the light in front her eyes.

“You… you’re a _Jedi_.”

“Used to be,” Kanan whispered after a pause. The admission rattled through Sabine as if a bomb had been dropped on her. The Jedi were the whispered footnotes of ancient history. Even an association to the order was a chargeable offence; being one meant Kanan had borne the mark of death for most, if not all his life.

_What do you even know?_

_What have_ you _lost?_

The words she had shouted at him in anger now seemed not just petulant, but downright abhorrent as they echoed tortuously in her mind. Her eyes beginning to waiver, she could see the bandage that looped around the palm of his hand, now caked in sweat and filth. Her heart felt like it was collapsing under the weight of what she had done; she had been suspicious, callous, even violent to them – to him – yet there he sat, on a freighter now under attack, still tending to her wounds.

“Why?”

The penlight stalled in her vision, but she starred forward, trying to see his face behind the light.

“Why did you come back… for _me_?” Sabine managed to choke out.

The light blinked out as Kanan froze, staring back at her. This time, she held his gaze, trying to make sense of the pained, yet soft look in the deep blue of his eyes.

“Because I’m done leaving people behind.”

Sabine opened her mouth, but only mustered a strangled heave as her throat seized. She could feel her entire body beginning to tremble as tears welled up in her eyes, but this time there was no strength left to hold them back. Head beginning to cow, her sniffle grew into a weeping that shook through her core.

A cautious hand rested lightly on her upper back, hesitant but steady as her breath hitched shallowly in her chest. Letting herself fall into Kanan’s chest, she felt her tears soaking into the fabric of his sweater as she clung to his waist. As her sobs turned to bawling, she felt his arms wrap tightly around her, gently rocking her as the _Ghost_ ’s hyperdrive roared to life.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of your kind words and patience! The resolution to this arc has been playing around in my mind since I began this project, but it took this long to figure out how I was going to get here. I have to provide a massive thanks to Stay70573 for several great suggestions that added some of the color and life to this chapter, I'm truly thankful for his input and fantastic suggestions. To everyone who have liked, followed, and reviewed, I owe you all a debt of gratitude for your support.  
> While I plan to add an epilogue note some time in the future, this concludes the main story for The Fugitive. As long as it took me, this project has allowed me to dive into some of the headcannons that I've imagined and have a ton of fun exploring Sabine's character along the way. As always, your comments and criticism are always welcome and appreciated, and I'll catch you all on the next adventure!  
> All the best,  
> JA


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